Romeo and Juliet: A Modern Take
by Eschmuckal
Summary: Take the story of Romeo and Juliet. Now, change the setting. Romeo and Juliet are Sophomores, caught between feuding cultures. Please go easy on me; this is my first real story.
1. Act 1, Scene 1

Gregory was having a pretty good day. Classes hadn't been too hard, teachers hadn't been too annoying, and he'd snagged a nap in 3rd Period without anybody noticing. As he opened his locker at the start of lunch break, he was feeling pretty optimistic.

Suddenly, his gaze shifted. His eyes hardened, and his stance shifted ever so slightly.

There, walking down the hallway, was Abraham. Gregory didn't know him personally, but he knew what he was instantly. His black clothes, tight jeans, and multiple bracelets gave him away.

An emo boy.

Gregory's lip curled. He had a special hatred for all emos.

Abraham hadn't notice Gregory; he was too busy reading a book. Gregory scowled as he watched. Contempt boiled inside him, and he glanced around. No teachers in sight. Slowly, he shut his locker, and walked casually up the hallway.

It was a small movement, but it caught the attention of everyone in the hall. Conversations slowed down. Eyes flicked to follow Gregory and Abraham, as they converged on each other. Gregory notice some of his friends in the crowd, looking on with sudden interest. Good. He would need backup if things got out of hand.

As Gregory approached, Abraham looked up. His eyes narrowed as he saw what was going on, and he dropped his gaze again. Gregory smirked. Filthy coward didn't want trouble. Well, he'd take care of that.

Despite Abraham's attempts to ignore Gregory, his eyes kept sliding back to Gregory's face. Gregory waited until he was a few feet away, then casually slid his middle finger toward the other boy.

Abraham's hands tightened on his book. He stopped walking. Gregory became aware of the students around them pause, as his classmates turned to watch. Everyone was tensed, waiting to see what happened next.

Slowly, Abraham shut his book, and turned toward Gregory. Gregory feigned nonchalance, pretending to chat with one of his friends.

"Do you have a problem?", Abraham asked tightly. He stared at the impertinent 14 year-old in front of him. His eyes raked over Gregory's clothes and hair. They were new, bright, colorful, the latest fashion. Abraham knew this type. Just another prep, obsessed with the trending styles and topics. He wanted nothing more then to tear Gregory's fine clothes to pieces in his smug face, but he took a deep breath. What ever happened, he could not be goaded into a fight.

Gregory looked up, feigning innocence. "Who me? Maaaaaybe." He glanced around at the crowd, enjoying the attention. Some people laughed, but most stayed quiet. Gregory met Abraham's eyes again, daring him to walk away.

"Are you asking for a fight?", Abraham asked, then kicked himself. Of course Gregory was asking! He heard the laughter again, but refused to acknowledge it.

Gregory stepped forward, his eyes dancing. "I'd love to," he said. "But I obey the rules, unlike you psychopaths."

It was a weak insult, and Gregory knew it. But his friends jumped at the chance, laughing as if it was the funniest thing in the world. Abraham's eyes narrowed, and his pulse quickened. His mind searched for a come-back, though he knew he shouldn't. "Too bad," he said calmly. "I was looking forward to putting a brat in his place."

This time, the laughter was against Gregory. Some other emos had been attracted by the crowd, and were anticipating a fight. Gregory's gaze darkened slightly, as he gazed around. Well, more reason to get into this.

He looked back at Abraham and tilted his head. "Sorry to disappoint you," he said lightly. "But I wouldn't want you to get hurt." Abraham raised his eyebrows, pretending the words didn't affect him. But Gregory knew he was reaching the teenager in front of him.

"But I'm not really worried," he said, glancing back at his friends, as if sharing an inside joke. "Everyone knows you punk weirdos just act tough. But faced with a fight, they run like scared-"

There was a crash, as Abraham let go of his books, and charged at Gregory. Gregory rose to meet him, and the two boys spun out into the middle of the hall. Shouts rose up, as Abraham and Gregory tore at each other, trying to inflict as much damage as possible.

"Stop! You idiots!"

Everyone turned, as a new person raced onto the scene, darting between the two fighters and pushing them apart. Everyone recognized him instantly. It was Benvolio, an emo Sophomore with a peaceful attitude. His brown hair was sticking up in all angles, his spiked gloves were askew, and his ripped black shirt was drenched in sweat. He put his hands on both fighters' chests, stopping them from fighting. "That's enough," he said calmly, meeting both their gazes.

Gregory broke away, his face flushed. "Don't touch me, freak!" Benvolio ignored him, glaring at Abraham. The other looked just as angry, pushing against Benvolio's restraining arm.

"Benvolio!"

Benvolio froze.

There, across the hallway, was Tybalt, a hot-headed teen with an appetite for fighting. His black hair was cut in the trending fashion - messy and wind-blown in a supposedly cute way - and his clothes were neatly pressed. Never the less, he cut an opposing figure as he strood across the hallway toward Benvolio. His eyes glittered with a challenge.

Benvolio took a deep breath. "Tybalt," he slowly. "Don't you dare.. Either help me stop these two or-"

He didn't get to finish. Tybalt had gotten close enough for a good lunge, and Benvolio was forced to move, or be hit. A great yell rose from the crowd, and the fighting resumed. Benvolio was aware of more people charging in from all sides, as he grappled with his opponent. The crowd erupted into yelling, as more and more students joined the fray.

"What's going on here?"

Benvolio looked up at the new voice. There, at the end of the hallway, surrounded by a bunch of other students, was Capulet. Her long black hair was sweeping her thighs, just above her tiny shorts. She folded her tanned arms over her purple crop top, and surveyed the chaos with annoyance.

She wasn't the only Junior attracted by the fighting. Benvolio spotted the familiar figure of Montague, usually someone he looked up to, coming from the other direction, and groaned softly. Capulet and Montague hated each other with a deep passion. How was he going to stop the fighting now?

Montague stopped inches from Capulet's face. "Looks like your weak little posers thought they could take us in a fight." he said smugly, grinning into her face. Capulet moved like she was going to attack, but one of her friends grabbed her arm. Montague snorted, and folded his arms. "Cowards."

Capulet wrenched her arm from her friend's grasp. "It's not nice to insult girls," she said sweetly, before raking her manicured nails across Montague's face.

Benvolio had no idea what happened next, because Tybalt wrapped his arm around Benvolio's neck, and attempted to strangle him. As Benvolio struggled for air, chaos resumed. The Juniors charged eagerly toward each other, and bystanders threw themselves out of the way. Everywhere you looked, emos and preps were slugging it out, trying to tear each other apart. There was nothing Benvolio could do to stop them. The situation was out of control.

"Stop! All of you, stop!"

Benvolio froze, then stumbled as Tybalt released him. All around him, students were freezing, letting go of each other, and turning towards the speaker. Only one person in the school could command that much authority.

Principal Escalus had arrived.

The Principal was shaking with fury. He stared around at the abashed crowed, and his eyes settled on two figures, obviously the persons at fault. "Miss Capulet!", he bellowed. "Mr. Montague! Come here! Immediately!"

The two Juniors sheepishly approached the principal. They knew they had done wrong. Principal Escalus glared down on them. "Haven't I told you, thousands of times before, that there is no fighting on school grounds?" He turned his attention to the crowd. "Haven't I told all of you this? And yet, time and again, you disobey me!"

He paused for a moment, and put his head in his hand. "What must I do to make you stop?", he asked, almost to himself. "I am sick to death of your constant quarreling, Capulet and Montague! Every time there is a dispute on this campus, you are the ones either starting it, or in the thick of it! There must be something I can do!"

Suddenly, Principal Escalus looked up. "I was hoping," he said, staring at each fighter individually, "I would not have to take such desperate measures. But now I see that you will not listen to anything else."

"If there is any fighting on school grounds again, any fighting, those fighters will be expelled."

The crowed broke into nervous muttering as they digested this statement. The Principal surveyed this scene, before waving his hand. "You are all dismissed. Capulet, Montague, I will have to write to your parents about this."

As Principal Escalus turned, the crowd began to disperse. Benvolio rubbed his neck slowly, and was preparing to walk off, when he heard someone call his name. He turned, and saw Montague standing with a group of his friends. Montague waved. "Benvolio! Come here!"

With a sigh, Benvolio turned and headed toward the Junior emo. Montague had blond hair, dyed with thick streaks of black. He wore a black shirt with a skull on it, and purple skinny jeans with zips on them. His many necklaces clattered, as he put an arm around Benvolio's shoulders, drawing him close. "Rough fight today, wasn't it?"

"Yup." Benvolio couldn't help being on edge. Montague only paid attention to Sophomores when he needed a favor. "Tybalt nearly killed me."

"Yes, yes," Montague said, obviously not interested. "Tell me, how's my little brother doing? I haven't seen him in ages."

 _Aha_. Montages wanted to talk about Romeo. Benvolio considered how his best friend might react to Montague's prying, then decided on an answer. "I saw him sulking around the park earlier in the day. He didn't seem to want to be bothered."

"Hm." Montague looked dejected. "I'm worried about him, Benvolio. He's even more melancholy then usual."

Benvolio nodded in agreement. Romeo usually seemed slightly moony, but this was strange even for him. Benvolio glanced around, and his eyes widened. "Hey, there he is!" He spotted his friend coming across the hall, dragging his feet. Romeo was defiantly depressed about something.

Montague followed his gaze. "Yeah I see him. Maybe I should go talk to him."

"No!" Benvolio started forward. The last thing his friend would want was his slightly over-protective big brother bothering him. "If you want, I'll go talk to him. He'd tell me, honest."

"You would?" Montague grinned. "Great. You're a good guy." He gave Benvolio a little shove. "Go on."

Benvolio headed toward his friend. Romeo saw him coming, and looked up. His hair - blond like his brother's - was dyed black at the tips. He was wearing a shredded My Chemical Romance shirt over a dark grey shirt. He had a red studded belt inserted in his skinny jeans, and grey converse sneakers. He raised an eyebrow at Benvolio, but made no move to leave.

Benvolio forced himself to be happy. "Morning, Romeo."

Romeo sighed mournfully. "Is the day so young?"

Benvolio groaned inwardly. _Oh boy_. Romeo was in a poetic mood. This was going to be even more difficult then he'd thought. "It's just 11:30," he said, still trying to be optimistic.

"Aye me, sad hours seem long."

Benvolio dropped the act. "Romeo, what's the matter?" He'd never seen his friend quite like this before. Or had he? Benvolio tried to think. There had to be something...

It suddenly hit him, and he kicked himself for forgetting about that. "You're in love again, aren't you."

Romeo just sighed, which was answer enough. He was, if nothing else, a hopeless romantic. Love seemed to hit him at odd times, and he always seemed moody and depressed. It was so obvious. Benvolio sighed too. "Who is it this time?"

"Rosaline."

" _Rosaline?_ " Benvolio stared at his friend. "Are you sure? She doesn't really seem your type." Rosaline was a bouncy, bubbly sophomore, quite the opposite of Romeo. She was one of those gossipy, giggly girls, too close to being a fashionista for Benvolio to feel comfortable around her. Why on earth would Romeo be hitting on her?

Romeo tossed his blond hair out of his eyes, and glared at him. "Did you come to make fun of me?" Before Benvolio could replay, he had turned, and slipped away into the crowd. Benvolio watched him go, then ran after him.

 _Okay, fine, Romeo. If it's love that's bothering you, I can fix that. Just you wait._


	2. Act 1, Scene 2

Capulet was jubilant.

She hurried along the school hallways, the fight of the day already forgotten. Behind her, struggled a Sophomore boy, the source of her joy. He had dark red hair, and wore a tan jacket over a blue shirt. His jeans were ripped, and he had a tan beanie. Capulet shot another look at him, and couldn't help giggling. She was a _genius._

The boy, Paris, hurried to stand beside her. "Capulet, wait!" He bent over, breathing hard. "Please, give me my answer." He looked up at her with bright blue eyes, a picture of longing.

Capulet laughed out loud. "Go on, Paris," she said, putting an arm around the younger boy's shoulders. "It was nice of you to ask permission, and my answer is yes. You're a good student, and a good kid. My younger sister will love you." She grinned at Paris, who smiled back in relief. It was old news that he had a huge crush on her baby sis, Juliet - many students did. Capulet was so proud of her matchmaking. They would be so _cute_ together!

"Look." Capulet forced herself to calm down. "As many know, I'm throwing a party tonight, in the school gym. Everyone's invited." She wrinkled her nose, as Montague's smirking face intruded her thoughts. "Well, _almost_ everyone. But the point is, my sister will be there. It's the perfect time to get know each other!" She looked at Paris. "What do you think?"

Paris grinned. "Thank you, Capulet," he whispered. Finally, Juliet would be his!

* * *

"What's that?"

Romeo looked up, as Benvolio grabbed his arm, willing him to stop. Exasperated, he turned around, wishing his friend would stop following him. Couldn't a person mope in peace?

Benvolio was studying a poster on one of the school message boards. He shook his head. "Never mind. It's just another of Capulet's pointless parties."

"No, wait." Romeo headed forward, suddenly interested. He had noticed a name on the guest list, a name that made his heart flutter and his head spin. "Look! Rosaline's invited!"

Benvolio glanced at the name, and sighed. "Yes Romeo, that's very interesting. Now-."

He stopped. An idea had just occurred to him. He stood in the hall, mulling it over. It was dangerous, reckless, stupid, and probably bad.

But it just might work.

He turned back to Romeo. His friend was still looking at the poster, gazing longingly at the name of his crush, written in swirly pink cursive. Benvolio put his hand on Romeo's shoulder. "Hey Romeo," he said slowly. "How would you like to see Rosaline again?"

Romeo slowly turned to him, one blond eye-brow raised. "What do you mean."

"Well, she obviously doesn't like you," Benvolio said, intentionally blunt. "But what if she didn't know you were you?"

"What?"

"Here's the plan," Benvolio said excitedly, warming to the idea. "We sneak into Capulet's ball, in disguise of course. You can talk to Rosaline, and she won't know it's you!"

This was not the real plan, but it what Benvolio had to tell Romeo. The real plan was along the same lines, except for the talking-to-Rosaline part. Benvolio had seen many names on the list, including some of the prettiest girls in the school. If things worked out, Romeo would forget about Rosaline by the end of the night.

Romeo was quiet for a moment. "Fine," he said slowly. "But how do we get in?"

Benvolio gestured to the list again. "Look," he said. "Do you recognize that name?"

Romeo looked. A few lines down, the list read: _Valentine, and his brother Mercutio._

"So?"

"So Mercutio's going!" Mercutio was another one of Romeo's friends. The only reason he was invited was because he and his older brother were Principal Escalus's nephews. "We can just ask him to-."

"Ask me what?"

The two boys jumped, and turned. Behind them was Mercutio himself. His black hair hung over his mischievous green eyes. Both his ears and his lip were pierced, and he had several bracelets. His shirt glorified his favorite band, _Fall-Out Boy,_ and his dark cargo pants were loose and baggy. He clutched his backpack over one shoulder with one hand, and pulled his head-phones off his ears. "Ask me what?", he repeated.

"Romeo's in love again," Benvolio said, matter-of-factly. Romeo glared at him, and Mercutio laughed. "Anyway," Benvolio continued. "Capulet's throwing a party, and Romeo's true love is invited."

Romeo shot him another dirty look, and went back to studying the poster. Benvolio pulled Mercutio aside, and whispered the rest of the plan in his ear. Mercutio's expression changed from interest to mischievous, and Benvolio knew his friend was sold. Mercutio was, if nothing else, a trouble-maker. He gave Benvolio a thumbs-up, and walked forward, throwing an arm around Romeo's shoulders. "Weep no more, my friend. I'll get you guys in."

As the bell rang to signal the end of lunch, Benvolio pulled his friends into a huddle. "Tonight," he said, his heart racing. "Meet at the basket-ball courts. Remember, we're going in disguise."


	3. Act 1, Scenes 3 and 4

"Natalie! Juliet!"

Capulet folded her arms, and waited. In front of her, the chatter in her younger sister's dorm room abruptly stopped. Then, there was a frenzied whispering, and a moment of rustling. Capulet was just about to yell again, when the door swung open.

In the doorway stood Natalie, Juliet's best friend. She fixed Capulet her strong, blue-eyed gaze. It wasn't a glare exactly, but neither was it friendly. Capulet and Natalie didn't have the best relationship, due to the fact that Capulet was always trying to get Natalie to change. Her sense of style gave Capulet the shivers, what with her unkempt brown hair and slightly pudgy shape. Today, she was wearing a hideous dark green t-shirt, and embroidered jeans. She tilted her head at Capulet. "What do you want?"

Capulet sighed. "Where's Juliet? I need to talk to her."

Natalie paused, and glanced behind her. "Julie, your sis wants to talk. Can I let her in?"

Capulet didn't wait for an answer. She pushed past Natalie, and entered the room. Natalie followed, grumbling about intruders. Capulet paused to observed the dorm room, tactfully decorated with the latest in styles. Then, she glanced around for her sister.

Juliet lay on the rug, drying her newly painted nails. She looked up as her sister approached, her hip-length black hair falling back from her face. She was wearing a pink tank-top with a black shrug and skinny jeans, a flattering look on her light-brown skin. Her blue eyes look curious, and she pushed herself into a sitting position. "Hi Capulet. What is it?"

Capulet sat down on the rug beside Juliet. Her green eyes glittered with excitement. "Tell me, sis, what do you think about having a boyfriend."

Juliet paused. She and Natalie exchanged a long look. Finally, Juliet said cautiously, "Why do you ask?"

Capulet could barely sit still. "I've found the perfect guy for you," she said breathlessly. "Do you know who Paris is?"

"Oh, Paris!" Juliet pushed her hair away from her face. "He's...nice," she said grudgingly.

In truth, she didn't know much about Paris, save for the fact that he always seemed to want to help her. She looked to Natalie for clarification. "What do you think? You two have 3rd and 5th period together, right?"

Natalie grinned, plopping herself down beside her friend. "Oh, he's nice," she said. "Very smart, very kind, very strong." She grinned wickedly. "Very cute, too. I'd think you'd like him."

"Oh stop it!" Juliet gave Natalie a push, and the other girl snickered.

"Yes, I suppose he is," Capulet said thoughtfully. "He's coming to the party, you know. You'll see him there." She looked at Juliet, her gaze suddenly sharp. "You're coming, right? You'd better."

"Of _course_ I'm coming," Juliet sighed. She didn't much look forward to another blind date, set up by her older sister. But she had to come, or the rumors would fly. She could just imagine what the school would think. Why would Capulet's younger sister not come to Capulet's birthday? Were they having a fight? What was it about? Once started, that rumor could go on for ages, with the answers getting more and more outrageous.

Besides, who knew? Maybe Paris would be the right guy for her after all.

* * *

Benvolio scanned the darkness nervously. For the millionth time, he checked his watch. _6:33._ What was taking the others so long? The party was probably already starting. Maybe the others had chickened out. Oh boy, _that_ would be embarrassing. Out here, waiting fo-

"Boo."

Benvolio jumped, spun around, and found himself nose to nose with another face. He yelled, and stumbled backward. The face laughed, and stepped into the light. Benvolio glared. "Jeez, Mercutio, that wasn't necessary."

Mercutio laughed again. "Nope, but it was funny." He slung an arm around his furious friend, and casually scanned the darkness. "Lover boy here yet?"

"No." Benvolio shoved Mercutio away. "What took you so long? I've been here since-." He stopped suddenly. "Mercutio, _what_ did you do to yourself?"

Mercutio looked down at himself, seeming confused. He was wearing a red shirt, with a green vest and tie. His jeans were torn in several places, and he had on something that looked like tap shoes. He had removed his earrings, and had hidden his hair under a grey fedora. Mercutio looked back up, confused. "What's wrong?"

Benvolio had an equal desire to laugh and to groan. "Subtlety, you idiot. What part of that do you not understand?"

"It's the fashion!", Mercutio said, defensively. "I looked it up online."

"Not in _those_ colors, it's not."

"It's all I had!" Mercutio scanned the darkness, and his eyes lit up. "Hang on. I see someone." He dropped low, and crept toward a solitary person, making their way slowly across the black-top. The figure seemed unaware of his extra shadow as it trailed him across the dark school, getting closer and closer, until they were inches apart.

Just as Mercutio was about to pounce, the figure turned. "Did you want something?"

Mercutio stumbled backward, his plan backfiring on him. Romeo grinned, a flicker of his normal self flooding his face. "Honestly, Mercutio, you know you can't scare me."

His friend hurried to regain his composure. "I wasn't trying to scare you. I was just trying to make sure it was you, that's all." He gripped Romeo's arm, and starting pulling him toward Benvolio, who was trying his best not to laugh. "Really, I'm shocked at your lack of confidence."

Romeo rolled his eyes, then frowned. "What the heck are you wearing?"

Mercutio blushed.

Benvolio could have let them go on for ages - Romeo and Mercutio were always sparring with words - but time was running out. He had to step in."Seriously, though, what took you so long?"

The mirth dropped out of Romeo's face, and he stared at the ground. Finally, he said, "My heart is too heavy to dance. You two go on without me."

"Oh no," Mercutio said. "You're dancing, wheither you like it or not."

" _You_ dance," Romeo retorted. "You're happy."

"You know, Romeo, it wouldn't kill you to be happy once in a while," Benvolio said, coming up and putting an arm around his friend's shoulder. "And besides, you're going to see Rosaline, remember?"

"Yes..." Romeo looked up. "Look, Ben, I got a bad feeling about this whole thing."

"A bad feeling." Mercutio's head snapped up, and the other boys could see the wheels turning in his green eyes. A mischievous look flashed across his face. "From what? A dream, perhaps?"

"Maaaaaaaaaybe?" Romeo said cautiously. He had no idea where his friend was going with this.

Mercutio grinned, lighting up his whole face. "Ah, then I see Mab had been with you."

"Excuse me?"

"Mab, Queen Mab." Mercutio waved his hand in the air. "No bigger then a ring on your finger, and yet such power. She rides across your nose as you sleep, delivering dreams and nightmares to all she crosses. Her chariot is made of all sorts of things - hazel-nuts, spider-legs, grasshopper wings - and drawn by creatures as small as atoms. And onward she gallops."

He let his fingers dance over Romeo's head. "She enters lover's brains, and they dream of love. She drives over lawyer's fingers, and they dream of money. She drives over the lips of girls, and they dream of kisses. She drives over solder's necks and they dream of war."

Mercutio spun away, and around one of the basket-ball hoops. His free hand made the shape of a gun. "Yes, the solder dreams of killing, of ambushes, of weapons, of toasting with friends, before a battle."

He suddenly leaped away, and sprung up behind Benvolio. "And then, suddenly, he hears the drums of war! They call him awake, and he starts to consciousness, sweat beading on his forehead. Terrified, he speaks a few prayers, before collapsing back into a dreamless sleep." Mercutio ruffled his friend's thick brown hair. "This is the Mab that snarls the hair of men and women. This is the Mab that-."

"Mercutio, enough!" Romeo shook his head, raising his hands in exasperation. "You talk of nothing."

"True." Mercutio put his arms around his friends' shoulders, drawing them close. "I talk of dreams, which are the product of an idle mind. Dreams spring from nonsence, so they are nothing."

"Our plans will be for nothing, if you don't shut up," Benvolio said, glancing back at the gym. "Look, they're opening the doors." He looked back at Romeo. "Come on, man. Don't back out now."

Romeo sighed. "Fine," he muttered. How could he say no now? He followed his friends across the dark black-top, and toward the warm yellow glow of Capulet's party.

But as he walked, he couldn't shake his feeling of foreboding.


	4. Act 1, Scene 5

Juliet hovered around the edges of the crowd, surveying the scene. Her long black hair was swept over one shoulder, with sparkly clips keeping it away from her face. She wore a purple strapless dress, with a design of sparkles over it. She knew she was probably blinding the people next to her, but she couldn't help it. She loved sparkly stuff.

Beside her, Natalie touched her arm. She had on a modest black dress with white embroidery on the skirt, and a black shrug. She was grinning wickedly, and Juliet knew what she was going to say.

Sure enough Natalie grabbed her arm."Look! There's Paris!" She pointed across the gym toward the lone figure, watching them. He turned his head away quickly, as if staring at Juliet was an unforgivable mistake. Natalie gave her friend a little push. "Go on. Talk to him."

Reluctantly, Juliet started across the gym. Paris looked up as she approached, his face lighting up. "Juliet! Um...hi."

"Hi."

There was a pause. Juliet glanced around the room nervously. She saw Natalie across the gym, waving her arms and mouthing something to her. _Talk to him._ Juliet turned back to Paris, who was staring at her as if she might disappear. Uncomfortably, she said, "So, um, are you into sports?"

He started, obviously having zoned out. "Um, what was that?"

"Never mind." Juliet glanced at the floor. Why was this so hard? She was usually a very social person, always the one to say hi to the new kids, or offer advice to students in need of help. But this was agonizingly painful. She wished something would pop up. A fire, a meteor, _anything,_ just to make this conversation stop.

Then, like a blessing, Capulet swept out of the crowd. "Paris! Juliet! How is my favorite pair doing?"

For one of the few times in her life, Juliet was grateful for her sister's habit of butting into other's business. She smiled shakily at Capulet. "Pretty good," she said, not wanting to make Capulet upset. "We've just been talking."

"Good, good," Capulet said. "Hey Paris, I'm sure Juliet would like something to drink." She smiled at Paris. "Would you mind fetching-."

"Oh, of course." Paris hurried off into the crowd. Relieved, Juliet turned away, but Capulet gripped her arm. All her hostess charm was gone.

"Where do you think you're going?", she asked. "Don't you want to see Paris?"

Juliet sighed, and turned. "Look, sis, I just don't think Paris and I are right for each other."

"Give it time. It'll grow."

"Yeah, sure." Juliet turned away. "Like you're the love expert here."

Her sister made an exasperated noise. "I can't believe it. I find you the perfect guy, and you ditch him after one conversa-."

"I didn't ditch him!" Juliet spun and glared at Capulet. "We just didn't click."

"Oh sure," Capulet scoffed. "It's the whole love-at-first-sight thing again. Honestly Juliet, I thought you'd grown out of this."

Juliet's cheeks flushed. It was true she'd always been in love with that idea - two people seeing each other for the first time, and instantly knowing they were right for each other. It was so romantic. She narrowed her eyes. It wasn't Capulet's business anyway, what she thought about love. Still she forced a smile. "I did. I'm sorry. I guess I can try again."

It was a bad lie, but Capulet wanted to hear it. She smiled again, reverting back to her kind-and-generous hostess state. "Right," she said. "Well, I'll just let you two love-birds be." She turned and glided off into the crowd again, probably to disrupt another group.

As soon as she was gone, Juliet turned, and half-ran the other direction. She was _not_ going to trudge though another awkward conversation with Paris. Maybe she _was_ being picky, but she was restless. She would find someone else to talk to, or possibly dance.

As she hurried though the crowd, someone stopped.

Someone stared.

Juliet's long, thick hair flowed out behind her, in shiny black waves. The clips in them glittered like stars in the midnight sky. Her purple dress ripped in her wake, catching the light and setting off her smooth, light-brown skin. Her dark-green eyes glowed with an internal light, illuminating her beautiful face. Everything about her was perfect, from her head to her toes.

Romeo watched, stunned, as the angel he'd spotted disappeared into the crowd. Then, he whirled, gripping the arm of the person next to him. "Hey, you!"

With an annoyed flick of her head, Rosaline turned, ready to give this boy a sharp rebuke. But the words died on her lips, when she saw the handsome young sophomore standing beside her. "Hello," she giggled, her anger gone.

He didn't seem to be paying attention; he was staring off into the crowd. "Who was that girl?," he asked.

Rosaline deflated slightly. She'd just met the cutest boy ever, and he was interested in somebody else! "I don't know," she said sulkily, then gave her voice a flirtatious tone. "The real question is, who are _you_?"

But Romeo was already gone, pushing through the people in his way. He spotted the girl again, just through the crowd, and almost stumbled. She shone brighter then the lights on the wall, a jeweled earring on the cheek of the night. She was too beautiful for the world, too beautiful to leave. Her light outshone the other girls around her, like a dove outshone a flock of crows. He had to find her, touch her treasured hand with his own rough, clumsy one. He didn't believe, that he'd ever loved another. He _couldn't_ have loved another. As he pushed through the people around him, he knew he'd never seen true beauty until now.

Tybalt spun in anger, as somebody shoved him roughly aside. He looked for the person, and his eyes fell upon a boy about his age, some arrogant kid looking for trouble. Tybalt started towards him with a growl. He'd been on edge all evening - he _hated_ parties, but hadn't wanted to disappoint Capulet - and this was just what he was looking for.

But 's eyes narrowed. There was something about this boy, something that set his teeth on edge. It was the way he moved, the style of his hair, the type of clothing, obviously out of style.

It was impossible, but it had to be true. Tybalt started forward again, his fists clenched. One thought echoed in his mind.

 _Get the emo freak._

"Tybalt! What the heck are you _doing_?"

Tybalt turned at the words, hissed angrily in his ear. Capulet stood behind him, her hand on his shoulder. She was tapping one foot, and she didn't look happy.

He gestured angily toward the intruder, already getting away. "There's an emo here."

This got Capulet's attention. She glanced around. "What? They wouldn't _dare_ invade my party." She stopped, as her green eyes found the intruder. "Oh." she relaxed. "It's just him."

" _Just him?!_ " Tybalt stared, agaust. "What do you mean, _just him?"_

"It's Romeo," Capulet said. Leave it to her to recognize every freak in the school on sight. "Montague's baby brother. Let him alone, Tybalt. He's never harmed anyone."

Tybalt stared at her as if she'd grown an extra head. "Let him alone?! He's an _intruder!_ He shouldn't _be here!_ "

He started toward Romeo again, but Capulet grabbed him roughly by the arm. She look furious. "Look, you! This is _my_ party. My _birthday_ party. If you challenge that freak, the whole thing will be chaos. I know how you feel, believe me. But I'm not going to be responsible for a riot. Didn't you here what Principal Esculas said this afternoon? People who fight will be _expelled._ You calm down and leave him alone, or you get out of here!"

Tybalt ground his teeth in anger. He hated giving in, stepping down. But he nodded. "Fine."

But as Capulet left, he glared once more at Romeo's retreating back, now a speck in the distance.

 _Just you wait, Emo trash. You may think it's funny now. But just wait, 'till I get a hold of you. You'll be sorry then._

* * *

Juliet had almost reached the end of the room, when she felt someone grab her hand. She whirled, anger on her face. Paris was back, trying to get her to sit through another conversation, and she wouldn't-

Oh.

Oh my.

In front of her stood a sophomore she'd never seen before. She knew this, because she was sure she would have remembered if she had. He had blond hair, dyed black at the tips, that fell into his face. His captivating blue eyes stared into hers, with an intense passion that both scared and intrigued her. His dark suit was out of place at the flashy, colorful party. But it fit him perfectly.

Juliet had never seen someone more beautiful.

As she watched, he began to speak. "I apologize for my intrusion, dear saint. My hand is unworthy to touch yours, sacred as it is. I stand here, to smooth my rough touch with a gentle kiss."

He lifted her hand to his lips, but at the last moment, she snatched it away. Her heart was beating like wild, as his words echoed in her head. Somehow, she managed to speak.

"Please, you wrong your hand too much." She stumbled over the words, trying to copy his poetic speech. Jeez, she must sound so stupid! "People touch saint's hands all the time, when in prayer. By holding my hand, you show, um, proper devotion." She took his hand again. "After all, holding one palm against another is sort of like a kiss."

He studied her face. "Don't saints have lips, as well as people?."

She nodded breathlessly. "Yes, uh, lips that they must use in prayer."

He moved closer to her, all other sound fading away. "Then, dear saint let lips do what hands do. Grant my prayer, so my faith may prevail."

A tingle raced through her body. She knew she should back away, but she didn't want to, not now. "S-saint's do not move, when praying"

He was so close. "Then move not, while I commit my prayer." His eyes slid shut, and he leaned forward, planting a kiss on her forehead.

A rush of feeling swept through her body, even as he moved away. She stared up into his face, her voice leaving her lips. Almost without meaning to, one of her hands crept up to touch his cheek.

He leaned forward, and she did too. His lips parted, and she tilted her face upward, as all other sound faded away. She could feel his warm breath on her face, and her heart beat faster.

"Julie!"

They jumped apart. Juliet picked at her dress, her face flaming. She risked a glance over at the boy. He seemed as flustered as she was, playing with his hair and looking anywhere but her. She knew the same thought was running through both their heads.

 _What the heck had just happened?_

"Julie!" Natalie was striding towards them. She stopped when she saw the boy. "Ooh, what's this? Flirting with another?" She grinned wickedly, and the boy's face flushed.

Juliet blushed too. "Natalie."

Natalie laughed. "You'd better tell me about this." She grinned at her friend. "Oh, and your sister's looking for you. Don't give me that look, hon. Just go talk to her and be done with it."

She watched as Juliet reluctantly wandered off, then looked back at the boy. He was watching Juliet leave, love plainly etched on his face. Natalie giggled, and he started, trying to pretend he hadn't been caught. "Um, who's her sister."

"Capulet herself, lover boy."

He stared visibly. "She-she'd Capulet's sister."

"Yes." Natalie studied the boy's face, which had gone pale. "What's the matter? You don't need to worry - they're nothing alike." She stopped. "Seriously, what's up?"

He was backing away. "I-I'm sorry. I have to go."

"Wait!", Natalie called, but he was already gone. She watched him leave, confused. If he didn't like Capulet, why'd he come to the party. And why the big reaction? The only people she'd seen react like that to Capulet had been em-.

Oh.

Natalie turned at the sound of footsteps, and found Juliet hurrying back. She stopped, and looked around. "Wait, where'd he go?" She turned to Natalie. "Nat, where'd he go?"

Her friend seemed strangely sullen. "Said he had to go," she said.

Juliet tried again. Surely he couldn't have left. "Did you see where he went?" Then, when getting no answer, "Who was he, anyway? Did you get that?"

"Yup, though he doesn't know it."

"What?"

Natalie sighed. "Juliet, look. You're not going to like this."

"I don't care. Tell me."

"I mean, you're _really_ not going to like this. Like _really, really_ no-."

"Nat!"

"Alright, fine." Natalie sighed. "His name is Romeo, Montague's little brother."

Juliet blinked, at first not understanding her friend's meaning. No. It _couldn't_ be. This was impossible. She stared at Natalie, willing her friend to laugh. But Natalie was unusually grave. She put her hand on Juliet's arm, probably speaking words of comfort. But Juliet couldn't hear them. All she could here were Romeo's words, spoken in her ear, Natalie's condemning words, and a little verse of her own.

 _My only love, sprung from my only hate. To early seen unknown, and known too late._


	5. Act 2, Prologue, & Scenes 1 and 2

_As night draws in, new feelings are kindled. Now Romeo's old love is dying, and a new desire seeks to take it's place. He wished for the beautiful Rosiline, and would have given his life to her. And yet, compared with the beautiful Juliet, Rosaline no longer seems so fair. Now Romeo loves, and is loved, both people falling for the other's good looks._

 _But Romeo must speak his love to his brother's foe, and his fair saint loves someone she should hate. Romeo cannot see her, nor can she see him. But love gives lovers strength, and time gives the chance for a meeting, while affection tempers danger with intense sweetness._

* * *

"Romeo! _Romeo!_ Where the heck are you?"

Benvolio's cries split the otherwise still night. He looked anxiously back and forth, while Mercutio skipped happily along beside him. "Where could he have gone? I thought we told him to meet back at the basketball courts. Help me, Mercutio."

Mercutio grinned wickedly. "Romeo! Madman! Lover!" He dodged away, laughing, as Benvolio lunged at him, and continued. "Show yourself in the form of a sigh. Speak just one rhyme, and I'll be satisfied. I conjure you by Rosaline's bright eyes, her high forehead, and her red lips. In your true form, I command you-."

"Mercutio!" Benvolio sounded exasperated. "If he hears you, he'll be angry."

"Then he'll come out, no?" Mercutio's green eyes sparked with mirth, and he turned his face back to path ahead. Raising his voice, he shouted, "Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?"

Benvolio grabbed his friend's shoulder. "Mercutio, now is _not_ the time to practice your Olde English. And wherefore means 'why' not 'where'" He glanced around once more. "Come on, it's getting late. Let Romeo find his own way home."

As the two Sophomores walked off, they didn't notice a figure peek out from behind one of the walls of the auditorium. Romeo glared at their retreating backs for a second, then dodged out of sight at the sound of voices.

"Julie, please, you don't have to do this." It was the girl that had interrupted him at the party. Romeo risked a peak past the wall again, and saw the tip of a large ladder peaking out from the corner.

"It's okay, Nat." Romeo froze, as the sweet voice of Juliet broke the air. "I'll catch up with you later." The latter dodged out of view, and Romeo ducked out of view, as Nat left the area. He heard the ladder creak, as it was climbed, and peaked out again.

Juliet was perched at the top of the ladder, taking down the sign advertising her sister's birthday party. She had changed into a pair of skinny jeans and a dark-red sweater crop-top. She was a brilliant sun, out shining the moon. If only she knew how much he loved her, how he wished to speak to her! Her eyes, two bright stars, spoke to nothing. As he watched, she turned, leaning against the wall of the auditorium. She rested her cheek on one hand, staring mournfully into the sky.

"Dang it."

Her voice carried through the clear night. _Speak again, my bright angel. You are as glorious as an angel tonight, sailing on the clouds._

Juliet didn't notice her secret admirer. She stared sadly out into the night, her head full of thoughts. Vaguely she remembered something she had heard while walking here. It was like something Romeo would say, so she said it aloud.

"Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art though, Romeo?" She let the words hang in the air, and a small smile crossed her lips. It was ironic, the way the words fit. She whispered it again, and then continued. "Why does the only guy I really love have to be an emo? Not that that's bad," she added hastily. "Actually, there's not really any problem with that, except for my sister. Why is that, though? She never really told me."

Her words made Romeo smile. He had to say something, but he wanted to hear more.

Juliet continued, her words gaining power. "It's just a habit, anyway. It's not a hand, or a foot, or anything important. Or maybe it is. But what's the problem, if it is important? What does it matter, how we dress, or what we like?" She smiled. "Romeo, you are perfect, Emo or not. Oh Romeo, ignore this stupid rivalry, and let me be with you."

Romeo could bare it no longer. He stepped out from behind the pillar. "Dear saint, I would do anything for you, if only you ask it."

Juliet shrieked, and clung to the ladder in terror. "Who...what...why..!" She trailed off, heart beating. What kind of person hid in the shadows, listening to other's private thoughts? She suddenly wished that she hadn't sent Natalie away.

Her eavesdropper walked out into the moonlight. Juliet's breath caught, as she recognized the black-tipped blond hair, the sparkling blue eyes. _Oh my gosh. Oh. My. Gosh._

It was Romeo.

Heart pounding, Juliet leaned over. Somehow, she found her voice. "R-romeo? Is that you? Montague's little brother?" She paused. "M-my sister's rival?"

Romeo gazed up at her. "Neither, dear saint, if either you dislike."

It _was_ him. Juliet's heart swelled with happiness at his beautiful words, even as terror thrilled through her. "Why are you here? If someone finds you, they might, um, they might kill you." She knew she was being over-dramatic. But hey, she was an over-dramatic person!

"An angry word from you would be worse then a thousand blows." Romeo knew he should be scared. He should probably leave. But Juliet's breathtaking face drove him on.

Juliet leaned her cheek on her hand again. She gazed at Romeo with such affection, that he thought he might sprout wings. "I'd do anything to keep you here," she said dreamily.

Her words filled him with happiness. "The darkness will hide me. And I'd rather be caught here, then hear that you do not love me, Juliet."

Juliet blushed with pleasure. She supposed it was a good thing that he couldn't see her. "Really? You love me? Swear that you do, and I'll love you back."

"Angel, by the moon above-."

"Oh, no!" Juliet started suddenly, regretting her words. Honestly, the night did strange things with your mind. "Um, don't swear by the moon. It changes constantly. Actually, you don't need to swear at all. I'll take your word for it, 'kay?" She smiled at him, and he grinned hesitantly back.

 _Yeah baby, now we got pro-oblems.  
And I don't think we can so-olve them._

Juliet jumped as her phone rang. Blushing furiously, she grabbed it, and pressed the accept button. If she'd known she was going to be having a romantic moment, she would have silenced the stupid thing. A bit snappishly, she said, "What?"

"Jeez, Julie, don't be so mean. It's not like I interrupted anything." It was Natalie. "Where the heck _are_ you? Paris had me cornered a few moments ago, asking about you. Honestly, he's sooo-."

Juliet didn't have time for this. "Hang on," she said, then put the phone down. "I'm sorry, love. I have to go." Her face flamed at such bold words, but she felt that leaving now was inexcusable.

Romeo's face fell. "Can't you just stay a little bit longer?"

"Juliet!" Natalie sounded confused. "Don't tell me you hung up on me?!"

"I didn't." Juliet looked back. "I'll see you again, right? Oh great, but where?"

"Um..." Romeo hadn't thought about this. He hesitated, then heard more annoyed yelling from Juliet's phone. "Wait. I've got it. You know who Laurie is? The science girl?"

"Yeah." Juliet cocked her head at him, her beautiful black hair tumbling over one shoulder. "What about her?"

"She's not involved in this fight between Montague and Capulet, right? I'll tell her about it, and she can arrange something. You know she had so many contacts."

"Are you sure we can trust her?" Natalie started again, and Juliet cursed softly. "Well, we'll have to go with it." She leaned down and, before she could lose her nerve, blew her crush a quick kiss. "Good night."

Romeo raised a hand, a smile on his lips. "Good night, Juliet."

And he was gone.


	6. Act 2, Scene 3

Romeo could not concentrate. Not on school, not on music, not even on poetry. Every thought, from the time he woke up, to here in 4th period, was of Juliet.

Her smooth black hair. Her light brown skin. Her blue eyes, full of life. The way she had spoken his name, like a song or poem. _Romeo._ She loved him. And he loved her.

Oh, love was a beautiful thing!

He didn't see Benvolio or Mercutio that morning. Or maybe he had, but hadn't given it much thought. It occurred to him that he couldn't tell them about Juliet. Mercutio would have a field day, and Ben might tell Montague. As peaceful as he was, Benvolio hated Capulet and her lot. Imagine what he'd think if he knew his best friend was in love with Capulet's little sister!

Romeo also didn't notice Tybalt, lurking around the shadows, looking for him.

"Mr. Romeo!"

Romeo jumped, as his math teacher smacked his desk with a ruler. Ms. Pinz glared down at him, her green eyes spitting sparks. "Are you paying attention?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Oh really?" Ms. Pinz smiled slyly. She wasn't a mean teacher, but woe to anyone caught misbehaving! She gestured with her ruler toward the whit-board. "Then please tell the class the answer to question 3."

Romeo stared at the board. It occurred to him that he had forgotten to do his homework. He had been so caught up with moping about Rosaline - Rosaline! Imagine that! - to concentrate, and too busy thinking about Juliet afterward. Oh, Juliet! Just thinking of her made his heart sing! How he longed to see her, to talk to her, to-.

"Mr. Romeo!" Ms. Pinz's sharp voice yanked him out of his thoughts. She was no longer smiling. "Always daydreaming, even in plain sight. You didn't even do your homework! If this keeps up, I'll need to tell your parents!"

"That'll put Montague in his place," somebody muttered, and Romeo heard snickers. He swung around, trying to pinpoint the speaker. Ms. Pinz was already on the war-path, striding down the long row of desks toward the voice. Romeo heard her angry voice as if from a distance. His thoughts pulled back to Juliet. He wondered what she was doing now. He had to see her again, or he might go insane.

Luckily, he knew just how to do that.

* * *

There were many smart teens at school. It was known for turning out students who would go to ivy-league schools, make a huge breakthrough in some career, and live out their days as a millionaire. Here, students who had been known as the "smart kids" back in middle school now had to fight for that title. Here, everyone was equal, and students smarter then others were rare.

That being said, there was not a single person that could argue that Laurie Friar was just like the others.

Laurie was a genus.

Even in a school where that title was used only in exceptional cases, she was a genus. Because Laurie _was_ exceptional. She had skipped three grades in a row, and was the only 12 year-old sophomore. Never the less, she was top in all her classes, and willing to fight anyone who challenged her. At the moment, she was drilling away on a history test, one that was a little harder then the ones around her. And acing it, of course.

She knew this, because the teacher was standing at another kid's desk, trying to look like he wasn't staring at her answers. Laurie smiled quietly. She knew the teachers had a running competition going to see who could challenge her. She didn't mind it much. She liked a good challenge. It was boring, getting everything instantly.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class and the start of lunch. Laurie finished the last question, and stuffed her books into her bag. She waited impatiently as the tests were collected, then practically bolted out the door. It wasn't that she didn't like History class. She just had stuff to do, places to go, things to look up.

She passed through the crowded hallways. Some people's eyes lingered on her as she passed, but most were used to a 12 year-old in a world of teenagers. Nothing like what it had been like at the beginning of school. She spotted groups of friends talking with each other, boys chatting up cute girls, a few people reading, and some just walking. Just another ordinary day.

Now, Laurie wasn't lonely. She supposed she could have plenty of friends if she wanted to. She just had better stuff to do. She always did. Plus, there was nobody her age here. And she didn't want to intimidate anyone. She had spent a good deal of her time at this school trying to prove herself, without seeming stuck-up, socially awkward, or weird. She didn't want to screw up now.

Two pairs of footsteps walked up to her, Laurie didn't look up, but she felt the presence of two people fall into step beside her. Before she could ask what was going on, somebody flung an arm around her shoulders. "Friar! Good to see you!"

Laurie sighed, and looked up into the face of Mercutio.

She didn't know Mercutio personally. Or Benvolio, who was walking along on her other side. She wasn't an Emo, or a Prep - best not to get into those things - so both groups usually left her alone. Unless they wanted help defeating the other group. They seemed to think that she knew everything. Which she didn't.

At the moment, though, Mercutio seemed to be taking his time. "So. How's life? Classes going smoothly."

"Yup," Laurie said cautiously. She never knew what to make of Emos, especially Mercutio. He was a mostly light-hearted person, but strongly passionate about music. He was also slightly unpredictable. "Nothing I can't handle," she added, just in case he really wanted to talk.

"Mm hm." Mercutio feigned interest. "Say, Friar. Have you seen Romeo? We lost him last night, and I know he sometimes hangs out with you."

 _Oh_. "No, I haven't seem him." A thought occurred to her. "You know, you're not the only people looking for him."

"What?" Benvolio spoke for the first time, looking worried. "Who's looking for him?"

"Tybalt."

 _"What?!"_ Benvolio stared at her. "Why the heck is he doing that?"

Laurie shrugged. "How should I know?" She shrugged off Mercutio, and walked away. "If I see Romeo, I'll tell him you're looking for him."

She turned down the hallway, toward a less crowded part of school. Some kids spent their lunch outside, talking, reading, or playing. But Laurie was different. Due to her grades, she had been granted the special privilege of using the science lab during lunch. Laurie was passionate about science. She liked nothing better then discovering new things, and creating old things.

She pushed open the door, and found Romeo sitting on a stool at one of the tables.

 _Well. Speak of the devil._ Laurie stood in the doorway for a moment, and then entered the room. Romeo looked up at the sound of her footsteps, and grinned. This was an improvement. Last time she'd found him here, he'd looked like a storm cloud.

It wasn't unusual to find Romeo here. He was different then other people, and that's what she liked about him. He was always thinking about something, always had his head in the clouds. He didn't judge people; in fact, he always seemed not to notice what other people did. He didn't see what other people saw when they looked at Laurie. He didn't notice her youth, her smartness, the scent of wealth that always hung around her. And yet, he would come talk to her. They weren't friends, but they were close in a different way.

Laurie pulled on a white lab-coat. "You do know that half the school is looking for you, right?"

Romeo didn't seem to hear her. He was practically glowing. "That's interesting." He turned toward her suddenly, looking like a little kid. "Oh Laurie, I'm in love!"

Laurie snorted. "You told me that before." She began pulling vials off the walls. "No, wait. What happened? Did Rosaline kiss you, or something?"

"Rosaline?" Romeo looked utterly confused for a second. "Oh no, Laurie! Rosaline no longer means a thing to me! She pales in comparison to my one true love, the lovely Juliet!"

Laurie almost dropped the vial she was holding. "Excuse me?!"

She knew who Juliet was, of course. She had been the first person to approach Laurie, when the year had begun. She was always friendly, in a genuine way. But wasn't she Capulet's younger sister?

Romeo was already walking toward her. His eyes were shining. "Oh Laurie, she is an angel, a very saint! I love her, and she loves me back. Our love is boundless, a very river of affection!" He gripped Laurie's hands, suddenly nervous. "Look, I know this might seem strange. But I know you have a lot of privileges, and I was wondering if...well..."

Laurie knew what he was going to say. This school was a private school, with dorm rooms and everything. But people with exceptional grades, or exemplary behavior, got special permits to go outside campus. Laurie was one of those people, and she knew what Romeo wanted. He wanted her to take him and Juliet out of the school, so they could meet without being interrupted. But her head was spinning with confusion at this sudden declaration...and some anger.

"Good Lord!" Laurie pulled her hands away, and strode to a different table. "I can't believe this! Just a few days ago, you come in here moaning about how Rosaline is the love of your life. And now, without a second thought, you move on to another girl. I guess looks are the only thing that matters to guys."

Romeo followed her. "You lectured me often about loving Rosaline."

"For obsessing about her, not loving her."

"And you told me to bury my love."

"Not by finding another!"

"Laurie!" Romeo sneaked around the table and came up in front of Laurie, blocking her path. "Please, I know this love is true! I must see her again! And you know I can't do it here, not with my brother always poking in my business." He stared at her, his blue eyes large and pleading. "Come on, Laurie! You can't just say no. You just can't!"

"Gah!" Laurie thew up her hands in exasperation. "Don't give me that look, you idiot!." She groaned. "Alright, fine. After school, grab your girlfriend and meet me at the maple tree near the front gate. I'll have found something by then, 'kay? Now get out of my way!"

Romeo slid out of her way, grinning happily. "Oh, I wish it were now."

Laurie rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help smiling. "Careful, young lover. Those who hurry, stumble and fall."


	7. Act 2, Scene 4

Benvolio paced back and forth, his mind whirling. Every so often, he glanced up for Romeo. But his friend didn't show.

Weird. It was almost like Romeo was avoiding them. But why would he do that? Was he mad about last night?

 _"Hey young blood! Doesn't it fe-el! Like ou-ur time is run-ning out!"_

Benvolio stopped pacing. He took deep breath. Very slowly, he turned around.

"Mercutio," he growled. "Shut up."

Mercutio stopped singing, and looked up. He was sitting on the edge of a bench, his headphones turned up full blast. Looking Benvolio straight in the eye, he sang even louder and more off-key.

 _"Wearing our vintage mi-isery! No, I think it looked a little better on me!"_

Benvolio reached over, and yanked Mercutio's phone away from him. Mercutio yelped as his headphones were jerked out of their socket, and Fall-Out Boy's _T_ _he Phoenix_ blared out to the entire school. Benvolio hit the pause button, and held the phone out of his friend's reach. "Mercutio, enough!"

Mercutio tried to grab his phone back, but Benvolio was taller then he was. "Come on, man!", Mercutio complained. "That's fighting dirty!"

"I don't care." Benvolio jammed Mercutio's phone into the pocket of his backpack. "Don't you care about Romeo?"

"Of course I care!" Mercutio folded his arms. "But Romeo can take care of himself. He doesn't need a nurse-maid!"

"But didn't you hear what Laurie said?" Benvolio resumed pacing. "Tybalt's looking for him! And you know Tybalt."

"Ah, Tybalt." Mercutio's bad mood seemed to evaporate. "Tougher then the Prince of Cats, and what a fighter! He knows all the moves that a good attacker should know!" Mercutio whirled around, demonstrating what looked karate. "He knows the Age-zuki! He knows the Hasami-zuki! He knows the Maete! He knows the Fumikomi-shuto-uke! He knows the-."

"He knows that _what?"_

Mercutio stopped moving, and abruptly slumped down on a bench. "Ach! I hate those guys, the ones who use such complicated terms. Tell me, Ben, couldn't they just say _punch,_ or _jab,_ or _block,_ or something like that?"

Benvolio blinked at his friend's sudden change of mood. "Uh..." He glanced around, and then perked up. "Look! There's Romeo!"

"You don't say!" Mercutio straightened instantly. He locked eyes with the person a few feet away, and yelled, at the top of his lungs, "ROMEO!"

Romeo turned at the sound of his name being screamed across the area, as did several others. He spotted Mercutio, sitting on a bench and waving like a mad-man. Beside him, Benvolio looked like he was trying to become a shrub.

Mercutio seemed to relish the fact that his friend was embarrassed, so Romeo walked over quickly, to spare Benvolio any more humiliation. "What's up?"

"What's up?", Mercutio repeated. "Where _were_ you last night? Don't you fake innocence with me, you little devil," he added, as Romeo adapted a confused expression. "Me and Ben were worried about you. Well, Ben was worried. Me, I was fine."

Romeo grinned, and sat down beside his friends. "Sorry. I had some business to attend to."

"Business?" Mercutio's eye-brows shot up. "What kind of business?" His eyes widened, and he leaned over and punched Romeo on the arm. "Did it have anything to do with Rosaline, perhaps?"

Romeo smiled mysteriously. "Quite the suspicious one, aren't you?"

Mercutio did a little half-bow. "Yes, I'm such a charmer."

"Enough you two!" Benvolio put his hands over his ears in mock-exasperation. "You make my head spin!"

Encouraged, Mercutio glanced around the area in search of new torment for his friend. Suddenly, he poked Benvolio in the ribs, and pointed. "Look! Another thing to make you worry about!"

Benvolio began to shove his friend away, but then froze. "Oh great!"

Coming across the courtyard was a girl that Benvolio recognized. She was one of the Preps, wasn't she? Well, she certainty hung out with them. What was her name? Maddie? Nadia? Natalie? Yes, it was probably Natalie.

Whoever she was, she was coming straight toward them.

Natalie spotted the three Emo boys before they spotted her, immersed as they were in making fun of each other. Her head was still spinning from what Juliet had told her - fallen for an Emo! The very thought! -but she was a true friend. She would do what Juliet asked her to. Besides, it would annoy the heck out of Capulet, if she ever found out.

She marched up to the group, undaunted by the curious stares from the people around her. "Excuse me," she said "I'm looking for somebody named Romeo."

The boy on the right groaned, and put his head in his hands. "Oh no. Not you too!"

His friend snickered, and patted him on the back. "Shush, Benvolio. I doubt Tybalt would have sent a girl to fetch Romeo."

"Tybalt?" Natalie was intrigued enough to forget about the possible insult. "What's he got to do with anything?"

The boy, Benvolio, looked up, surprised. "Tybalt didn't send for you? Then why are you here?"

"I want to talk to Romeo," Natalie said. "In private."

The boy on the left, now obviously Romeo, tilted his head. "What? Why?"

The emo in the middle started laughing for real now. "Best not go, Lover boy! What would Rosaline say?"

Romeo shoved his friend backward. "Be quiet, Mercutio. Take Ben, and get out of here."

"I'm crushed," Mercutio declared, standing up in mock-outrage. He grabbed Benvolio's arm, and yanked him to his feet. "Come, Benvolio. We're obviously not wanted here." And with that, he stalked off, dragging his protesting friend behind him.

Natalie watched him go, shaking her head. "Who was that?"

"Just someone who loves to hear himself talk." Romeo didn't seem to pay attention to the words he spoke. "Juliet sent you, right? What does she want?"

"She just wants to know when she can see you again." Natalie suddenly grew colder, turning on the Sophomore beside her. "I'll have you know, Romeo, that if you hurt my Juliet, if you taint her in any way-."

Romeo held up his hands in surrender. "Calm down! I don't mean to hurt Juliet!" His eyes were full of truth, a testimony to his daring words, and Natalie couldn't help but back down. She _loved_ a good romance.

Romeo continued speaking. "I talked with Laurie this afternoon. She said to meet at the maple tree by the front gate after school."

"Laurie? Laurie Friar?" Natalie was confused. "What's she have to do with this?" The bell rang, announcing the end of lunch, and Natalie held up her hands. "You know what, never mind. I'll tell Julie where to go."

She walked off, calling out behind her, "I bet she'll be happy! I haven't seen her this excited since the Freshmen dance."


	8. Act 2, Scenes 5 and 6

Juliet sat nervously on a bench in the park, pretending to study her vocabulary words. She often went here, as did other students. It was the one place outside of school you were allowed to go, and it was beautiful. It had a pond, a gazebo, and even a carousel. Juliet supposed that she and Romeo go here, but there were always so many people around.

Romeo! Just thinking about him made butterflies flutter in her stomach. She closed her eyes, and imagined him, standing below her while she perched on the ladder. Gripping her hand in his. Pressing his lips to her forehead, his soft breath gently ruffling her hair.

Her eyes jolted open, and she took a deep breath. She'd sent Natalie to see what was going on, to see when she could see him again. Nat had promised to return, after reprehending her fiercely.

That had been at the beginning of lunch. And Nat still wasn't back yet.

Surely there their had to be an explanation. Maybe Natalie hadn't been able to find him. No, Nat was too good at hide-and-go-seek for that. Juliet stood up, and began to pace. Gah, Nat was slow! She hated P.E, and never liked doing physical activities. Why couldn't she be faster? Juliet should have gone herself. Then she could have seen Romeo again. Oh, Romeo!

Natalie was, in fact, hurrying through the trees. She slowed when she spotted Juliet, looking nervous and fretted. Natalie was bursting with the news, but she halted a moment. Glancing at her friend's stressed face, she smiled slowly.

She had an idea.

"Juliet!" Juliet turned, and her heart leaped into her throat. Natalie staggered into he courtyard, panting up a storm. Juliet ran to her. "Nat! What took so long?"

Natalie waved her off, and stumbled toward the bench that her friend had vacated. "Give me a moment to catch my breath! For heaven's sake, Julie, why are you so impatient? Ay, my legs are cement!"

Juliet raced over to her. "If I could give you my legs, I would!" She knelt by her friend. "Tell me what he said!"

"What who said?"

"Romeo!" Juliet stared at her.

"Right." Natalie took a deep breath. "Your Romeo, a very nice person if I do say so myself, said - where is your sister?"

"Where is my _sister_?" Juliet gaped at her friend. "What do you _mean,_ where is my sister? What's _s_ _he_ got to do with it?"

"Oh hush." Natalie waved her hand dismissively. "I'm so out of breath, I can barely speak!"

"You have enough breath to tell me you're out of it! Breath, that is." Juliet was loosing her patience. "Natalie! Tell me."

"Fine." Natalie took a deep, dramatic breath. "After school, meet by the maple tree near the front gate. Romeo will be there, along with Laurie Friar." She sat up, suddenly full of energy. "And there, you shall meet your beloved!"

Juliet fell backward, sprawling in the grass. A laugh, joyful and giddy, bubbled up inside her. She heard Natalie start laughing too, and no longer cared that it was at her expense. She didn't care about anything else anymore.

She was going to see Romeo!

* * *

Romeo arrived early. Laurie found him there, spinning around a tree. Her lips twitched, and she set down her backpack. "Well, Lover boy, you feeling happy?"

Romeo stopped spinning. "Why does everyone call me that?" It didn't seem to trouble him that much, because his face soon resumed it's blissful expression. "Oh Laurie, I am full of joy! I will never be sad again!"

Laurie laughed out loud at that. "Watch out! Don't want to jinx this, do you?"

"I can't think of anything bad!" Romeo leaned against a tree. "When you're in love, you'll understand."

"What makes you think I've never been in love before?"

"I mean real love," Romeo replied, grinning. "Not crushes and stuff. Real love, the kind that comes suddenly, and fills your soul with joy and clarity."

"Carful when judging that kind of stuff." Laurie glanced around. "Sudden joys have sudden endings. They die with their victory, like fire and gunpowder. Everything in moderation is the way to go."

Romeo was about to reply, when he heard footsteps. He looked up, and his heart soared.

Juliet was running across the field toward them, her long black hair flowing out behind her and catching the sunlight. Little gold lights sparkled within it, and it flowed like water. She raced toward him, her eyes shining, but skidded to a stop in front of him. Suddenly self-conscious, she gazed down at the grass instead. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Aw." Laurie surveyed them with her. "You two are so cute!" When they both looked her, she giggled. "Come on, people. We don't have all day."

She turned, and headed toward the road that ran past the school. Juliet hurried after. "Hang on. Where are we going?"

"To the city of course." Laurie didn't slow down. "You two love-birds can go where you want, as long as you get back here by five. I'll be in the bookshop if you need me."

Juliet nodded, and sped up. Romeo gripped Laurie's arm, pulling her back. He suddenly looked nervous. "Laurie, hang on."

"What?"

"Where am I supposed to take Juliet?" Romeo look worried. "Where does she like to go? What if she doesn't like the places I like to go to?"

Laurie turned, and looked her friend straight in the eye. "Romeo, look. This is going to sound cheesy. But be yourself. She loves you. Don't give her the wrong person to love." She turned to go. "And look. You'll think of something. Go to a café. Everybody loves food!"


	9. My Own Scene

Juliet stood on the street, the crisp autumn wind blowing in her face. She watched Laurie walk away down the side walk, then risked a glance at her love. He stood with his hands in his pockets, his black-streaked blond hair hanging in one of his blue eyes. She noticed the bracelets on his wrists, the tight jeans, the black and grey shirt. Her heart pounded. He was so close.

Romeo's voice broke into her thoughts. "Uh, are you hungry?"

She thought about it. "A little."

He tilted his head across the street. "There's a Starbucks. Do you want to grab something to eat?"

"Okay."

The two of them headed over, pushing though the doors into the warm room within. It wasn't very crowed, and the food smelled great. Juliet ordered a cinnamon roll, and Romeo got a muffin. They walked over to a table near the window, away from the rest of the people.

Juliet toyed with her necklace. She glanced up at Romeo, trying to think of something to say. He was watching her, his blue eyes intent.

 _He's just as nervous as I am,_ Juliet realized. This though gave her courage. Sitting up a little straighter, she asked, "So. What do you do in your free time?"

The question sounded stupid as it left her mouth, but Romeo seemed to relax a little. "A lot of things, really. For one thing, I write."

"You do?" That was interesting. "What do you write?"

He looked a little sheepish. "Well, I don't really write anything down, exactly. I just make up poems."

Juliet smiled. "That explains the way you talk."

He blushed. He was so cute when he blushed. "Sorry about that. Some times I get a little carried away."

"Oh no, it's fine." Juliet leaned her head on her arm. "I like it that you're not afraid to show your feelings. A lot of boys I know try to act all 'cool' and stuff. It's kind of annoying."

Romeo grinned, relieved. Then, when the silence began to stretch, he asked, "What about you? What do you do in your free time?"

She looked down. "Oh, just girl stuff. Nothing you would find interesting."

He leaned forward. "Try me."

"Alright." She thought for a moment. "Well, once a month, me and Nat and my other friends all get together at someone's house. You know, like a big group sleepover."

"And what do you do at sleepovers?"

Juliet laughed. "Oh, you know. We talk a lot, play games, dance. It's really fun."

Romeo considered this. "You like dancing? What kind of music do you like?"

"I like the stuff they play on the radio." Juliet took a bite out of her cinnamon roll, and found it delicious. "Taylor Swift, Bruno Mars, stuff like that. What about you?"

He shrugged. "I don't really have a favorite artist. I do like My Chemical Romance, and Sleeping with Sirens."

"I've never heard of them. Are they good?"

"They're amazing." Romeo thought for a moment, then decided to risk it. "Better then the radio."

Juliet raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Yup." Romeo grinned at her. "Their lyrics actually mean things, unlike the stuff on the radio."

She grinned right back. "At least you can dance to radio music."

He laughed, and sat back. "Whatever you say."

Juliet watched him for a moment, ideally tapping her fingers on the table. Then abruptly, she got up. "Come on, let's go."

He got up too. "Where to?"

Juliet was already half-way to the door. She turned back, her eyes shining. "Hurry up! I want to show you something."

* * *

Romeo skidded to a halt panting. "Jeez, you run fast!"

Juliet laughed. Her laugh was gorgeous. "Yeah, I know. I did track for two years. Won almost every time."

Romeo glanced around. "Where are we?"

They were standing in a mostly-empty parking lot. Juliet beckoned him over to the far side of the building. "Me and my sister found this a few years ago. It never fails to disappoint me." She looked suddenly nervous. "I thought you might like it." She motioned Romeo forward, and he peaked around the side of the building.

He stared.

The place must have been the back of an apartment complex, or something. There were walls and other flat surfaces everywhere. And someone had taken advantage of that fact. Almost every surface was covered in some kind of graffiti. The drawings were mystical, funny, strange, or even a little scary. But all of it was gorgeous. The whole place throbbed with feeling. Someone came here, and poured their soul into this. It was incredible.

Juliet came up behind him. "Every time I come, there's something new. I've never seem anyone else, though." She gripped his hand. "Let me show you my favorite."

She pulled him over to a white-washed wall, with no windows. Across the wall, was a bird, streaks of blue, purple, black, and silver swooped together to form it's body. It's head was raised in triumph, it's beak open in a cry of defiance. Romeo could feel the rebellion its artist had poured into it, The strength it radiated was tangible, a thing of it's own.

Beside him, Juliet was quiet. She squeezed his hand, still clasped in hers. He smiled at her. "It's beautiful."

She didn't reply. But he could see it in her eyes. She smiled back.

And they stood their together, different and the same. Still young, still unsure about love, about culture. Still unsure about each other, and about what would happen next. It wasn't perfect.

But it was a start.


	10. Act 3, Scene 1

"Mercutio!" Benvolio raced down the sidewalk. 'Mercutio, show down! What's the matter?"

Mercutio eyed his friend, as Benvolio came panting up beside him. "Don't kill yourself, Ben. It's too hot to be running around."

"Yeah...( _gasp_ )...I know." Benvolio leaned down to catch his breath. "Why the ...( _gasp_ )...heck are you hanging...( _gasp_ ).. around in this murderous...( _gasp_ )...heat? Let's go inside."

"Eh." Mercutio ignored him. "Tell me, Benvolio, where might Romeo be?"

"Why do you _...(gasp)..._ ask?"

"Oh come on," Mercutio scoffed. "Surely you've noticed he's hardly ever around. I'm wondering if he comes this way and if he does..."

"Oh no." Benvolio grabbed his friend's arm. "Don't you even think about confronting him. It's too hot, and I don't want you two getting in a fight."

"Eh."

Benvolio sighed, then fanned his face with a hand. "Where are you going, anyway?"

"To the city."

"What? Why? Isn't that against the rules?"

"Your point?"

Benvolio groaned. "What about the construction pit?"

A week ago, the school had hired a team of construction workers to redo one of the streets that ran by the front of the school. Nobody was sure why - it was only the start of the first trimester, and hardly anyone ever used that road anyways. Never the less, the workers had come, and promptly banned any students from coming close.

Mercutio kept walking, undaunted. "What about it? It's a big hole. Unless you can give me a good reason why Romeo would be sitting in a hole, I don't plan on stopping there. Relax."

"Relax? _Relax?"_

"Oh right." Mercutio cackled delightedly. "I forgot. You never relax." He dodged Benvolio's half-hearted swing, and skipped away down the side-walk. "Besides, it's not like you need to come."

"Nice try." Benvolio folded his arms, his blue eyes glittering. "You aren't getting away from me. Who else would keep you out of trouble?"

Mercutio laughed again. They were approaching the construction pit now, a yawning hole in the ground. It was rigged with yellow safety tape, and had several safety cones around it. Mercutio kicked one out of his way. "Like you could keep me out of trouble, Ben."

Benvolio was about to reply, but stopped cold. "Oh no... Mercutio! Stop!"

Mercutio halted. His gaze followed Benvolio's, and his froze. His whole posture shifted around, and a thin smile spread across his lips.

A figure had been standing against on wall, completely motionless until now. When the boys had approached though, he had moved, coming out into the sunlight. He seemed causal enough, but there was a strange light in his eyes.

"Good afternoon," Tybalt said smoothly. "A word with one of you?"

Mercutio folded his arms, his smirk unwavering. "One word? With one of us? Are you sure you're not looking for something more... _active_ then talking?"

Tybalt smirked right back. "Give me a reason, and you'll find out."

Benvolio stepped forward hastily. Mercutio wasn't the fighting type of person, but the heat wasn't doing any good for his mood. And Tybalt, suspended-for-fighting-five-times Tybalt, would never back down. Benvolio fixed the prep with a stare. "What do you want, Tybalt?"

Tybalt glanced at the Emo before him with cold brown eyes. "Mercutio, Benvolio, you both hang out with Romeo, right?"

Mercutio snorted. "So what if we do? Are you preps so arrogant, you think you can control the relationships of others?"

"Mercutio, stop." Benvolio put a hand on his friend's arm. To Tybalt, he said, "I don't know were Romeo is, and I wouldn't tell you if I did." He adjusted his stance too. "Now, let's just walk away, I'm not looking for a fight."

Tybalt was about to reply, when his gaze shifted to a place near Mercutio's left shoulder. "At ease," he said smoothly. "Here comes your friend."

Benvolio spun, as Tybalt shoved past him. _No!_ _Crimany, Romeo, could you have picked a worse time?_ Yet he watched, with growing fear, as his friend approached the place where the three Sophomores were standing.

Tybalt wasted no time. He'd been waiting five days for this confrontation, and the words sprang to his lips. "Romeo, there is only one name I can call you. You are a villain."

Romeo blinked at the tall, black-haired teen in front of him. And he'd been having such a good day. Slowly, he said, "What have I done to deserve this name."

"Don't talk all fancy with me, _freak_ ," Tybalt growled, a threat dripping from every word. "Pretty words won't excuse what you've done."

Romeo sighed. He couldn't fight Tybalt. What would Juliet think? "I'm sorry, Tybalt, for whatever I've done to offend you. I won't fight you; I wouldn't dream of hurting you. Please, be satisfied with my words. It's all I can give you. I'll see you later." And with that, he pushed past Tybalt, walking away from the group.

Tybalt stalked after him. His words were calm, but he was shaking with anger. "You little coward. Turn and get your fists up, or get ready to hurt. I'm not walking away."

"He's right, you know."

Benvolio turned, watching with growing horror as Mercutio walked toward the two boys. "Your submission is pathetic," the emo taunted his friend. "Tybalt, you little brat, will you let your challenge go unanswered?"

Tybalt stopped, though he didn't turn around. "What do you want?"

Mercutio grinned. "Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine lives."

Slowly, a smile slid across Tybalt's face. He turned a half-circle, and faced his challenger. "I am for you."

"No!" Romeo called, hurrying toward them, but it was too late.

Mercutio leaped at Tybalt, who caught him by the forearms, and spun him around. Mercutio kneed the prep in the gut, and leaped away. Tybalt threw a punch, but Mercutio caught it. He moved to twist his opponent's arm behind his back, but Tybalt wrenched away. Nails scraped against both palms, as both boys tried to hang on to each other. They faced each other, moving in a slow circle.

Romeo caught Benvolio's eye across the fighter's heads. His friend stood, frozen in panic, watching as the two Sophomores leaped for each other again. Too late, Romeo tried to get in between them, but had to retreat. The fighters moved in a vicious dance, one that only they knew the steps to. Anyone who tried to get between them was liable to get hurt more then the fighters.

For a few moments, Romeo stood entranced. Both Mercutio and Tybalt were starting small, wary of each other. Mercutio was faster, but Tybalt was stronger. Yet, as they grew more confident, they began to get more daring. Tybalt fainted to the left, then grabbed Mercutio's wrists, twisting them painfully. Mercutio gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then spun away, giggling at Tybalt's reaction.

But it was also getting more vicious. The more they knew about each other, the less the boys held back. Mercutio stumbled, and Tybalt hit him in the eye, scoring the first real hit. In response, Mercutio kicked his opponent in the knee, then shoved him backward. Tybalt grabbed the emo's wrists, and spun him into a wall. Mercutio grunted, then pushed off the wall and sent his feet hard into Tybalt's stomach.

"Benvolio!", Romeo yelled. His friend jerked up, away from the hypnotic movements unfolding in front of him. Romeo made a movement, which Ben understood instantly. He crept toward the fighters, then pounced.

Tybalt stumbled backward, yanked out of his daze. Benvolio had his arms wrapped around the other's waist, dragging him away from Mercutio. Furious, Tybalt twisted and turned, adrenaline pumping though his veins.

Meanwhile, Romeo dodged in front of Mercutio. "Mercutio! Enough!"

Mercutio bounced on the balls of his feet, trying to see past Romeo's shoulder. He could vaguely make out the shape of Tybalt, writhing against Benvolio's restraining arms. Was he coming closer? The emo narrowed his green eyes. "Romeo, get out of the way! I can't see!"

Romeo shook his head. "No. Leave it!"

"I'm serious, Romeo!" Mercutio shaded his eyes, glaring at his friend. "Get out of the way! You're blocking my v-."

Tybalt lunged against Benvolio's arms, and the surprised emo released him. Carried by his thrust, and the adrenaline, he thundered toward Mercutio, hardly noticing his surroundings.

His hands hit Mercutio full in the chest. The emo's eyes went wide, as he stumbled backward. The backs of his knees hit the safety tape, making him lose his balance. Mercutio tipped backward, falling.

Falling straight into the construction pit.

Benvolio watched, almost in slow motion, as his friend tumbled down the side of the pit, half-sliding, half-bouncing. Mercutio's body hit one rock after another, until he finally skidded to a halt on the bottom of the pit.

Benvolio raced forward, his heart stopping. Romeo was already leaping the safety tape, racing down toward his fallen comrade. Benvolio cleared the tape in a single bound, almost falling down himself. He knelt by Mercutio, hardly aware of Tybalt, racing to the edge of the pit too.

Staring down with horror in his eyes.

"Mercutio!" Romeo could barely breath. "Say something. _Please!_ Say something!"

Slowly, Mercutio opened his eyes. "Jeez, Romeo," he muttered. "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd say that."

"You're alive!" Benvolio pulled out his phone. "Just hang on. I'm calling the ambulance."

"Nah, no need to do that." Mercutio attempted to put some of his usual swagger back into his voice. It didn't work very well. "A scratch, a scratch. Trust me, I'm fine." He tried to move, then grunted. "Well, maybe not."

Then his eyes settled on Romeo, and his gaze hardened. "You. Why didn't you move when I told you to? If I could have seen, then maybe I wouldn't be in this position!"

"I was only trying to help," Romeo was distraught.

"Help!" Mercutio snorted. "It's your fault, you know! Yours and Ben's, and Tybalt's and your brother's and Capulet's and all the other people in this stupid rivalry." His voice went up a notch. "A plague on both of you, you idiots! Can you hear me?! A plague on all of you! Tear each other to pieces for all I care! Yeah," he added, sounding drowsy. "Tear each...other to..peicesssss..."

His eyes rolled back in his head, and he lost conscious. Beside him, Benvolio hung up. "The ambulance's coming," he said tightly. "All we need to do is - Romeo!"

For Romeo had gotten up, and had begun to climb the rocky walls of the pit. There was a terrifying purpose in his walk, and his eyes gleamed with an awful light. One phrase echoed in his head.

 _Your fault. Your fault. Your fault._

Tybalt stumbled backward, as Romeo stepped calmly over the safety tape, his eyes fixed on Tybalt's face. Tybalt held up his hands. "W-wait. Hang on. I didn't mean to-."

Romeo dived at him, slamming him against the wall. The emo swung wildly, a red haze descending over his vision. Mercutio's fall played over and over again in his head. The way his body slammed into the rocks. The way his hands gripped fruitlessly at the sides, the dirt crumbling away at his touch. His expression, as he tumbled backward, shocked and surprised and confused.

 _Yourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyour-_

Romeo felt hands gripping him, pulling him backward. He spun, swinging out wildly. His fist stopped inches from Benvolio's frightened face.

"Please," Benvolio whispered. "You're going to kill him."

Romeo stopped, breathing hard. Slowly, he turned to where Tybalt lay, slumped against the wall. The prep's face was bruised and bloody. His stylish clothes were torn, and he seemed to be unconscious. Romeo watched his chest rise and fall, a sickening feeling rising in his chest.

 _What have I done?_

He slumped to the ground staring at his trembling hands. He heard Benvolio's voice, as if from far away, saying, "Romeo, no. Get up. There are people coming." Then, "Romeo! Listen to me! If Tybalt's friends find you here, they'll tear you to pieces! Don't give out on me! Run! Go!"

Romeo stumbled to his feet. Benvolio gave him a push, then watched him race away into the dust. His heart was slowly sinking into his chest.

He didn't remember the details of what happened next. Capulet was there, and so was Mercutio's brother, Valentine. Principal Esculas was there, asking Benvolio over and over again what had happened. Benvolio repeated his story again and again, hardly paying attention. Standing there, watching the chaos unfold around him, all he could think about was something Mercutio had said, just before Tybalt had appeared.

 _Like you could keep me out of trouble, Ben._


	11. Act 3, Scene 2

Juliet skipped along the hall-ways, barely noticing the odd glances she was getting from the rest of the students in the place. Algebra had been especially boring this time and she hadn't been able to concentrate. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Romeo.

Oh, Romeo! She was going to see him again today. They were going to the thrift store to browse for Halloween costumes. She couldn't wait to see what he wanted to be.

She was so absorbed in her work, she didn't notice the strange absence of people on the school grounds.

Look! There was Natalie, coming across the field. Juliet ran up to her. "Hey Nat! You wouldn't _believe_ how boring Mrs. Carson was today. I can't understand half of those numbers, can you?"

"No." Natalie's voice was flat. "No, I can't understand it. I don't understand it at all."

Juliet stopped, and looked her friend for the first time. Natalie was strangely quiet, her face down-cast. She didn't look at Juliet, but stared at the ground.

"Hey, Nat." Juliet peered at her friend's face. "Are you okay?

Natalie looked at her. "No", she said hollowly. "I'm not. All that blood, Julie. I've never seen him look so bad."

"Um, Nat?" Juliet stared at the girl in front of her. "Did you just say blood?"

Her friend closed her light brown eyes. "Oh Tybalt," she whispered. "I never would have thought it would happen. And Romeo, too. It makes no sense."

 _Romeo._ Juliet's blood went cold.

"Natalie. What. Happened?"

"I saw it." Natalie's fists were clenched tight, and her calm demeanor was staring to break. "I saw his face. Oh Julie, it was _awful._ All that blood."

 _"Whose_ blood?" Juliet was ready to grab Natalie's shoulders, and shake her. "Tell me what happened."

Natalie slowly looked up. "Romeo," she said, her calm disposure breaking. "Romeo beat up Tybalt."

Juliet felt like the world was rocking under her. She stumbled, the words echoing in her head. _Romeo. Romeo beat up Tybalt._

A thousand responses rushed through her mind, but she could make no sound. She didn't feel her heart breaking - she couldn't feel anything. She opened and closed her mouth several times, the words doubling up inside her. She didn't want to believe it. It _couldn't_ be true.

"Why?", she asked.

Nat shrugged helplessly, tears pooling in her eyes. "I don't know! I've never understood the male mind! Benvolio keeps explaining it. Something about Mercutio and a challenge."

She must have said more, but Juliet didn't here it. All she could think about was Tybalt.

She'd known him for a long time, even had a crush on him in 6th grade. But that had been a long time ago. He was too violent, to hot-headed. Still, he was her friend, one of the few friends she had that she could talk to. Really talk to.

And now _Romeo. Romeo._ He looked so perfect, so peaceful. But look what he'd done.

How could he? How could she have loved him, _still_ love him, in fact? It made no sense. Something must be wrong. She must be missing something.

There were tears running down Natalie's face, silent and hot. "I hate him," she growled ferociously. "I hate him, and all of his kind. So full of feelings, and they take it out on others. I ha-."

"Stop!" Juliet put her hands over her ears. "Shut up! I don't believe it! He wouldn't have done something like that!"

Nat stared at her. "I can't believe you!", she gasped. "How can you stand up for him? You weren't there, Juliet! You didn't...you haven't..."

"How can I not stand up for him!?" Juliet was practically screaming from shock and confusion. "I love him, for the love of Mike! You know what Tybalt's like! Who knows what he did!" She was babbling, and she knew it. "Tybalt makes everyone do things they wouldn't normally do! You know that, Nat, you know-."

And then she stopped, as a thought occurred to her. It grew in it's ferocity, threatening to suffocate her. Juliet closed her eyes, as the awful truth hit her like a tidal wave.

"He's expelled," she said, surprised at how calm her voice was, all of a sudden. "He's expelled, and I'm never going to see him again."

"Yes," Natalie whispered. "Yes, and it's a good thing too. He won't be able to hurt you, Juliet. It's a good-."

"No!" Juliet could feel herself becoming hysterical, and she fought to hang on. Hands shaking, she gripped Natalie's wrists. "Please, Nat. He loves me. He'd never hurt me." She practically ripped off one of her bracelets, and shoved it into her best friend's palm. "Find him. Tell him I want to meet him. He'll know where, trust me. Please, Nat. I know what I'm doing."

Natalie stared worriedly into Juliet's pleading eyes. She took a deep breath. "Fine," she said, shakely. "But you only get a few moments together." She walked off, leaving Juliet alone.

Juliet dug her nails into her palms, as her pain threatened to overwhelm her. It wasn't over yet, and she would not cry.

 _She_ _would not cry!_


	12. Act 3, Scene 3

Laurie knew exactly where she'd find Romeo. Pushing her way into the shadowed science lab, she peered around nervously. "Romeo? Are you there? We need to talk."

She saw movement, and turned to see the tall emo leaning against one of the tables. His head was down, his black-streaked blond hair falling over his eyes. His voice was soft as he asked, "What did the principle say?"

"You know what he said." Laurie shivered. "You're expelled, of course. I'm not sure about the others."

Romeo groaned, and put his head in his hands. He was silent for a long time.

"Hey." Laurie walked over to him. "It's not so bad. It's probably best that you get out of here anyways. Capulet and her followers will probably try to kill you, anyways."

Romeo jerked his head out of his palms, startling her. He stared up at the ceiling instead, with a harsh laugh. "Expulsion. I've done so much, and what do I get? Expulsion. Spare my soul, Laurie. Tell me it's not true."

Laurie sighed. "It's true, Romeo. You are expelled, and you need to leave in 24 hours. Principle's orders."

With a sudden, fierce movement, Romeo shoved himself away from the table, clutching his hair. "No, Laurie! You don't understand! I'm going to have to leave, and what will I do then? I can't see Juliet, can't meet Juliet, can't be with Juliet! The only other school around is miles away, and I'll never be able to visit her. Even the flies can see her, but what about me?" He spun back toward his friend. "How can I live, without my heart? Without my life?"

He stopped, and put his head in his hands again, letting his feelings overwhelm him again. How could he have been such an idiot? What had he been thinking? Now he was expelled, and Juliet was lost to him forever. Romeo groaned. Oh, she must hate him! That was worse that never seeing her again - having her think he was a violent freak. Which he was.

Laurie was just about to speak some more, when there was a sharp knock on the door. Before she could do anything, it swung open, revealing a girl with shoulder-length brown hair. "Alright, where's Romeo?"

"Why do you care?" Laurie asked warily.

"Oh relax." The girl surveyed the room. "I'm here because of Juliet. Now where is Romeo?"

Laurie gestured towards where Romeo was standing. "Over there, spouting depressing poetry."

"Right. Just like Julie." The girl stepped right up to Romeo. Then, before Laurie could stop her, she placed her hands on Romeo's shoulders, and shook him vigorously. He stumbled, looking surprised.

The girl didn't seem to care. "What the heck do you think you're doing? Your 'beloved' is looking for you, and you just stand here, crying your eyes out! For Pete's sake! Juliet is looking for you! For some reason, she still likes you!"

Romeo gazed at her, his blue eyes regaining some focus. "Natalie? You talk of Juliet? Is she alright?"

"Of course she's alright, idiot!" Natalie thrust her hand out. "In fact, she wants to see you. She said you'd know where. She even gave you a bracelet. Now stop moping, and go!"

Slowly, Romeo took the bracelet from Natalie's outstretched hand. He seemed alight with hope, staring at the token in his palm. Laurie's lips twitched, watching him. "You heard what she said. Go!"

As if sleepwalking, Romeo turned toward the door. As he started forward, he sped up. Soon, he was gone. Laurie gazed after him, shaking her head. "I'm worried about those two."

Natalie nodded. "I have absolutely no idea what Julie's gotten herself into," she muttered, stalking from the room, and leaving Laurie alone with her thoughts.


	13. Act 3, Scene 4

Capulet wasn't where Paris thought she'd be.

When he finally found her, she was standing in the hall-way, surrounded by some of her closest friends. She looked up when he came close, though, and her face brightened somewhat. "Paris!" My favorite Sophomore. What's up?"

Paris took a deep breath. "It's, uh, it's about Juliet."

There was an immediate flurry of whispers, making Paris turn as red as his hair. Capulet smiled at him, her eyes lightening. "Oh? What about Juliet?"

"I was, um, wondering if, uh..." Paris trailed off, looking around at Capulet's friends. "Err, can we talk in private?"

"Oh, sure." Capulet walked toward him. "Hang on a second, guys. I'll be right back."

Once they were out of sight, Paris quickly arranged his thoughts. "Look, I know this is kind of sudden, but I was wondering if-."

Capulet raised her hand, cutting him off. "Not now, Paris." Her face looked pained. "I doubt it would be a good move to get you and Juliet together right now. I mean, after what happened with Tybalt..." She trailed off, closing her eyes.

"Oh, I know." Paris cursed himself for sounding so snobbish. "But I was thinking, um, about Juliet. About how she must be feeling. She's having to go through this, pretty much alone. She needs someone to talk to, to trust, if you know what I mean."

It was a shaky argument, but Capulet's eyes brightened. "True." She thought for a moment, her old energy slowly coming back. "Alright. How does Wednesday sound? For a date, I mean."

Paris' heart swelled. "It sounds perfect." His thoughts returned to Juliet, and he felt an ach in his chest. Poor Juliet. What he wouldn't do to spare her this pain. He could just imagine what she was going through, and his heart went out to her.

 _Hang on, baby. I'll help you._


	14. Act 3, Scene 5 (Part 1)

Romeo turned the corner of 5th Street, his heart thudding in his chest. As he crossed the empty, leaf-swept parking lot, he rehearsed what he was going to say, Swallowing hard, he walked behind the building.

As he passed out of the parking lot, his words died on his lips.

Juliet stood in the middle of her graffiti-covered haven, wearing jeans, a black tank-top, and a red shrug. Her long dark hair swirled around her face, blown by the autumn wind. Her shadowed eyes gazed out at him, two deep pools of blue. Romeo found he could barely breath. She seemed so fragile, so delicate, like she might break into a thousand pieces.

 _And I did this to her._

His heart in his throat, Romeo walked slowly toward his love. She didn't move, didn't make a sound. She simply watched him as he advanced, his foot-steps loud and ringing in the still air. He reached her, and still she didn't move.

Romeo took a deep breath. "Juliet-."

"No." She turned away, the spell broken. Her voice was tight, disbelieving. "No. I don't want to hear it."

"Wait." Romeo swallowed. "Listen, I-."

"I told you no!" Juliet's voice went up a notch. "I don't care what you want to say. I can't _believe_ you! How could you do that?"

Romeo's head spun, trying to keep up with her. "I didn't mean to! I just-."

"Just what?" Juliet spun toward him, her eyes on fire. "Just what, Romeo?!"

His words died. "I..." He took a deep breath, then continued. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to...to..."

Juliet gazed at him, her breath trembling. Her eyes raked Romeo's face, searching for a single scrap of a lie, any hint that he wasn't telling truth. They stood inches apart, the only sound, their breathing.

Then, Juliet slipped her hand behind Romeo's black-streaked hair, and kissed him.

There was fire in her kiss, the desperate pain and grief that she couldn't express with words. When she broke away, Romeo pulled her close again, slipping his arms around her. Words passed between them, words neither of them could fully say.

They broke apart again, and the dam had broken. Juliet laid her head on Romeo's shoulder, her eyes squeezed shut. "Oh Romeo," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Oh Romeo."

"Shh.." Romeo held her close, trying to comfort her. A desperate cry was rising inside him, furious and full of anguish. He suddenly hated the world, hated it for trying tearing them apart. He couldn't leave, not when Juliet needed him most. How could he do this to her? He'd already done so much already.

Juliet pulled away from his embrace, pressing her forehead to his. "Please," she murmured . "Please. You can't leave. We can see each other again. We _have_ to!"

Romeo wanted to reassure her, to tell her it would be alright. But he would not lie to her. "We can't," he whispered. "Oh, Juliet, how can we? My brother's already working on enrolling me in another school, and it's miles away. God, Juliet, I..."

His voice cracked, and he could say no more. Juliet kissed him again, and he let himself be swept away, pretending it was alright. Pretending that an angel and an emo could be together. Pretending that this wasn't the last moment.

But already, their world was coming to an end. Romeo's phone buzzed, reminding him that his time was limited. He had to go, before his brother came looking for him. Pulling away, he cupped Juliet's head in his hands. She seemed to know what he was going to do, for her face shifted to one of misery. "No, please. Don't leave. You've got to have more time!"

Romeo shook his head, unable to speak. He brought Juliet's face close to his, and she relaxed, her hands sliding into his hair and around his neck. He sent all he had into that last kiss, his love, his pain, and his hope. _Please, Juliet. Please be strong. Don't give up. I_ will _see you again!_

For a moment, she hung on, her fear and hopeless defiance flowing into him. Then abruptly, she pushed away. "Go! Go know, before I change my mind!"

He walked backward a few steps, taking his last look of his one true love. She stood, her arms crossed, her face trembling. Romeo's heart broke, watching her. How could he leave her? But he had to, he knew that.

His lips opened, his voice reaching out. "Good-by, dear saint."

And then he turned and ran, afraid to turn around, lest he turn back.

Juliet watched him disappear, and felt something drop inside her. She hardly notice herself stumbling backward, hardly noticed her back hit the wall. She slid down it, her eyes sliding shut, breathing hard. As she reached the bottom, she covered her face with her arms, drawing her knees up to her chest. She let out her anguish in one great breath, as the tears finally came, dragging her down into darkness.


	15. Act 3, Scene 5 (Part 2)

Capulet raised her fist, and knocked three times on her sister's dorm room door. When nobody answered, she pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

Juliet sat on her bed, facing away from her older sister. She was very still. Capulet was suddenly struck by how small she seemed, how fragile she'd become. Her brow furrowed in distress, as she walked toward Juliet. Her sister usually seemed so full of life. What was wrong?

Capulet touched Juliet's shoulder gently. "Hey. Are you awake?"

Juliet started, and looked up hastily. "Capulet! Hi. I'm sorry, I don't feel that good." She looked down again, her eyes shadowed.

The bed creaked beside her, as her sister sat down. She put her arm around Juliet, and the younger girl couldn't help leaning into the embrace. Her heart ached The girls sat together in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other's company.

"Still sad about Tybalt?" Capulet asked, more gently then she usually sounded. "I know. I miss him too." She turned Juliet's head toward her, giving her a little smile, and Juliet couldn't help but grin back. "Come on, stop grieving," her sister said. "People are worried about you."

Juliet was suddenly struck with a longing so bad it made her head spin. She wanted so bad to tell Capulet the truth, to tell her about her real pain. But she had to swallow, take a deep breath, and to keep up her little masquerade. She owed it to Romeo.

"Well, I'll give you a reason to smile."

Startled, Juliet looked up. "What's that?"

"Paris!" Capulet's face was shining. "You're going to meet him for dinner next Tuesday."

For a moment, Juliet couldn't speak. She could barely breath. Capulet was still talking, rambling on about the petty details, but Juliet couldn't concentrate. _Meet Paris for dinner!_ She'd almost forgotten about the red-haired Sophomore, so obviously smitten with her. The one she could barely talk to, let alone go to dinner with! Her heart thundering, she cried out, more forcefully then she'd meant to, "No!"

Capulet stopped, her tirade grinding to a halt. "Excuse me?"

Juliet took a deep breath. "I-I can't do it. I can't go to dinner with him."

"What?" Capulet turned and stared at her younger sister in disbelief. "Why the heck not?"

 _Because I'm already going out with someone._ Juliet wanted to fling the words in her sister's face, but she knew she couldn't. Even if she did tell Capulet that she was in love with someone else, that would just make things worse. Capulet would want to know who it was, and she knew _everyone_ in the school. Juliet couldn't just invent someone. Besides, think of the rumors it would spread.

"Because I don't love him!" This was about the stupidest excuse Juliet could think of, but she couldn't think straight. "Come on, Capulet! He's just so...awkward."

Capulet was quiet for a moment. "But Julie," she finally said, "I don't think you understand what this could do for you. Look, you're taking Tybalt's injuries too seriously. You need someone to talk to, to comfort you. Why not Paris? He loves you, and you'll love him if you just give him a-."

"But I don't _want_ to!" Juliet sprang from the bed. She sounded like a whiny 8 year-old, but she couldn't seem to control her mouth. "You don't get it! I hardly _know_ Paris; why would I want to tell him my deepest feelings?"

"Well, not at first, of course!" Capulet stood up too, a little annoyed that Juliet didn't seem to understand the genius of her idea. "But you'll get there. You two are perfect for each other. So what if you don't love him? You haven't even given him a chance!"

"I have too! At the party, remember? I've never felt so awkward in my life!"

"Well give him another!" Capulet was defiantly getting mad. "Honestly, Juliet, are you still sticking to the whole love-at-first-sight nonsense? Haven't you grown out of it yet? It's so immature, and a little unfair!"

" _Unfair?"_ Juliet glared at her sister, equally furious and shocked. "How am I being _unfair?"_

"Because there are plenty of suitable boys that you could be happy with!", Capulet said angrily. "But _no,_ you drop them after one glance, just because they don't immediately fit the perfect match!"

Juliet gaped at her sister. "I do not!"

"Oh yeah?" Capulet strode to the door. When she reached it, she whirled around. "Then prove it! Meet Paris for dinner Thursday! Or if you don't, I'll tell you what. I'll tell everyone in the school what you really are - a hopeless romantic who'll forget you exist if you aren't completely perfect!"

Then, she yanked the door open, and stormed out into the hall, leaving her stunned younger sister to try to cope with what she'd left behind


	16. Act 4, Scene 1

Laurie already knew what would happen. She knew it even before the door to the science lab swung open, and Juliet trudged in, head down. Slowly, the younger girl looked up from her work. "Hi Julie."

Without warning, Juliet crumpled. Laure darted forward in alarm, as the black-haired girl dropped to the floor, and put her head in her hands. "Oh Laurie!", she sobbed. "Help me!"

"Err..." Feeling more then a little self-conscious, Laurie squatted down, and awkwardly patted Juliet on the shoulder. She wasn't used to people bursting into tears in front of her. "It's, uh, it's alright..."

"No it's not!" Juliet's voice was strained. "It's not alright! Everything's a mess!"

"I know," Laurie shifted into a more comfortable position, with her back to one of the experiment tables. "Paris told me. I help him with his ELA homework," she added, as Juliet gave her a questioning look. "He's a nice guy, although a little, uh, _academically challenged_."

"I don't _care_ how nice he is! I _can't_ go out with him! I already have a boyfriend!"

"Well then, don't!" Laurie was confused.

"No, you don't understand!" Juliet stared up at the ceiling, as though it might give her answers. "It's my sister - she's trying to control my life! Again!"

"Can't you just say no?"

Juliet closed her eyes, angrily swiping at the tears in her eyes. "If I do, she'll spread rumors about me! She says I need to _talk to someone,_ and _pour out my feelings."_ She let out a harsh laugh that made Laurie jump. "She just wants me to be perfect, so I won't spoil her image!"

"So if you don't go out with Paris, you get bad gossip." Laurie's head was spinning - she wasn't used to Prep logic. "Did you two have a fight? Maybe she just said those things out of anger. They seem kind of extreme."

"Doesn't matter." Juliet dropped her head back into her arms. Her voice continued, though slightly muffled. "Capulet hates being wrong. Even if she _didn't_ mean it, which I doubt, she'd never admit it. She'd go though with it, extreme or not."

"Oh." Laurie puzzled over this for a while. Finally, she threw up her hands. "Well I don't know what to do, other then tell the truth."

Juliet leaped to her feet so quickly, she almost knocked Laurie over. "No! I can't do that! That'll make it worse! Capulet will never forgive me! I'll never be able to show my face in school!" Her voice broke. "I...I just can't..."

 _I just can't_

Laurie had a sudden burst of memory. She tried to push it down, knowing what was coming, but it surfaced anyway. The scene around her faded away, as an image that she'd tried so hard to bury came flashing into focus.

 _A day, long ago, eerily similar to this one. A girl, about as old as Juliet, standing at the kitchen table. This girl's eyes were wide too, with the same desperate light. She clung to her jacket sleeves, tear-steaks on her dark cheeks. She stared at Laurie, as if the little eight year-old was her only hope. Which, in a way it was. Laurie's mind was spinning from what the girl had just told her, things that seemed like typical teenage problems._ My friend's going after my boyfriend. My parents never listen. My brother's so mean to me. I feel like nobody understands me. Please, Laur, you're smart. Help me. I...I just can't...

 _Laurie, overwhelmed, had ran from the room. And, one month later, that very same girl had walked right into the path of an SUV._

"...and I just don't know what to do!" Juliet's pain-ridden voice surfaced, drawing Laurie back to the present. "There's just no hope. I don't think I can continue like this."

"No!" Laure had leaped to her feet before she realized what was she was doing. Panicked, she gripped Juliet's "No, please! Don't say that! I-I'll help you! Just don't..." She trailed off at the sight of Juliet's confused expression. Then, she turned and headed toward the rack of chemicals at the back of the lab.

As she reached the rack, her mind demanded to know what the heck she thought she was doing. _It doesn't mean anything! She wasn't being serious. Tomorrow, I bet she'll wake up a realize how silly she'd being. Stop right now! You're just making things worse._

But Laurie didn't stop moving, as she mixed different chemicals together. Four years of pent-up guilt and pain drove her on, even as her mind yelled at her to stop.

 _I won't loose another person._

Hands shaking, she capped the liquid, and turned back to Juliet, thrusting the vial into the Sophomore's tanned hands. "Here. Take this when you go to sleep at night. It's a risky bet, but it should solve all your problems. If you don't have a guilty conscience, that is."

"Hang on." Juliet observed the liquid dubiously. "What is this, what does it do, and is it safe?"

"It's a combination of chemicals that will put you into a coma for a day. Don't look at me like that, it's perfectly safe. The most that will happen is that you'll get a migraine when you wake up."

 **Author's note: DO NOT PUT YOUSELF INTO A COMA! Self-induced comas are NEVER safe! There is NO scientific way to put yourself into a coma using the way I described above. PLEASE DON'T DO IT!**

"A _coma?"_ Juliet held the vial at arms length. "How will that help?"

"It'll make your sister realize how much she loves you." Laure put her head in her hands. "I'll tell Romeo, just in case he hears and gets worried. Look, it's the only other way I can think of. It's stupid, and you don't have to do it."

"No." Juliet's face was shaky, but set. "I'll do it."

And she left without another word, leaving Laurie to grapple with past and present mistakes.


	17. Act 4, Scene 3

It was a warm, fall evening, and the small town below was bustling with activity. In the midst of the crowds of people was a small group of girls. They were Sophomores, decked out in trendy winter-wear. Their cheeks were flushed with excitement. After all, it was one of the few times they had gotten out of their school. The principal had made an exception, due to certain circumstances, and the group had been released into the streets on a special night-out.

They were having so much fun, they didn't notice one of their own dart from the group, and slip away into the ally-ways.

Juliet had no real idea where she was going. She let her feet carry her where they wished. She'd left the group with vague impressions that she'd had to go to the bathroom. With any luck, they'd look for her later.

 _Goodbye, girls. Who knows when I'll see you again._

She knew she was being a little dramatic, but she felt strange. Ice thrilled through her veins, chilling her heart, and making her want to run back. But what good would that do? She had to continue.

As she hurried along, her fingers brushed the vial, hidden in her jacket pocket. Juliet swallowed hard. What if it didn't work? What would she say to her friends, when they found her...wherever she was going. No, it _had_ to work. She could trust Laurie.

Then again, the younger girl had been acting weirdly when she'd mixed the potion. Perhaps - and this made Juliet stumble a bit - perhaps Laurie hadn't made it correctly, and it really did something terrible. Or what if she was wrong, and Juliet got more then a migraine? What if-

 _No. Stop. You can trust Laurie._

But the what-ifs kept coming. What if she woke up, and nobody was there? Juliet shivered, in spite of the unusually-warm air. She'd never liked hospitals, and that was in the daytime, with a bunch of other people around. But what if she woke up, in the night, with nobody at her bed-side? No, she couldn't think of it! But her mind refused to let it go.

Her thoughts kept going. What if she was put in a room with someone else? What if it was _Tybalt?_ Juliet herself hadn't seen Tybalt after the fight, but Natalie and her other friends had. They had told her several times about how awful he'd looked, his face all bruised and bloody. What if he was there, the moonlight lighting up his ruined complexion, like some horrible night-thing?

Juliet clapped her hands over her ears, as if that would stop the tirade of images. She couldn't do this. She couldn't. She pulled the vial from her coat-pocket, and held it above her head. She would smash it, and go back. She'd try to talk to her sister, or contact Romeo, or- .

She stopped, arm raised, as she realized where she was.

It was the graffiti-covered back ally-way, the place she and Capulet had found. The place she'd shown Romeo. The place where she'd gotten her first kiss. Juliet looked around, full of nostalgia, and her eyes stumbled on something that hadn't been there before.

It was a life-sized picture of a girl. Her head was down, and her black hair was hanging over her face. She was crouched on the ground, her knees drawn up to her face. Her shoulders were hunched, her dark form full of grief. Her fingers were shaky, as if they really trembled.

With a jolt, Juliet realized that it was her.

Shocked, she raised her green eyes upward, above her crumpled self-portrait. Scrawled above the drawing, in hasty, yet legible cursive, were three crushingly familiar words:

 _Goodbye, dear saint._

 _-W-_

Entranced, Juliet ran her hands over the initial. _W._ A clue to the artist, and the knowledge that she and Romeo had not been unnoticed. The picture in front of her captured her pain, her heart-break. Just looking at it, Juliet was hit by sorrow all over again. Sorrow, and a terrible resolve.

Swallowing hard, she screwed off the top of the vial, raised it to her lips, and drank.

She didn't remember what it tasted like. She didn't remember what ran through her mind. All she knew was a sudden sense of vertigo, as the ground dropped away, and she rose sharply up into darkness.


	18. Act 4, Scene 5

_"Gonna wear that dress you like, skin tight. Got my hair up real, real nice."_

Capulet looked up at the sound of her phone's ringtone. Frowning, she looked up from the ELA paper she'd been typing. She checked the screen: Natalie Hart.

 _Huh._ Why would Natalie be calling this late at night? Why would Natalie be calling at all? Capulet studied her phone for a moment, then hit the answer button _._ Hey, anything was better then the summery of _The Great Gatsby._

She brought the phone to her ear. "Hey, Natalie. What's up?"

At first she couldn't understand what Natalie was saying; the Sophomore's voice was all choked up. Capulet had never heard Natalie cry before, and especially not while in the middle of a phone call. The result was full of static, sobs, and hysterical, unintelligible words.

"Er, can you repeat that?"

Natalie took a huge shaking breath, then released it in an enormous sob. "Jul-! Julie, s-she's..." Apparently she couldn't continue, because the rest of her words became meaningless.

Capulet barely noticed though. Her blood had turned to ice.

Raising her voice, she said sharply, "Natalie! Stop crying! What about Juliet?"

More crying. No, it was more like hysterical yelling. Capulet's perfectly shaped eye-brows rose. Juliet had never said that her best friend suffered from panic attacks. What the heck was going on?

"I c-can't wake her up! Capulet, I-I can't w-wake her up!"

There was a very long pause.

On the other end of the phone, Natalie waited, her heart pounding in her chest. She could barely think straight, could barely hear what was going on around her. Her trembling fingers clutched her phone, knuckles white against the bright-green cover. She swallowed, but her mouth was dry.

Finally, Capulet's voice came through. "Excuse me? _What_ did you just say?"

"I c-can't wake Julie!" Why the heck wasn't Capulet getting this? Maybe Natalie wasn't speaking clearly enough. She couldn't stop crying. She didn't seem to be able to get enough breath. One image was imprinted on her brain.

Juliet.

Stretched out below some kind of graffiti. Eyes closed. Pulse ragged. So still.

Capulet was speaking again. She sounded less calm now; maybe she was getting it. Natalie didn't care. She couldn't care about anything else, couldn't think of anything else. She felt one of her friends pry the phone from her hands, and speak into it. Natalie didn't resist.

She sunk to her knees in the dirt beside her friend. Juliet was motionless, except for the faint rise and fall of her chest. Natalie pressed shaking finger-tips to the girl's fore-head. The skin was cool and dry. Feeling it, Natalie felt herself begin to suffocate again.

 _Juliet! My Juliet!_

* * *

It was getting dark when the ambulance came. The clock on Paris' phone showed 9:30. Flashing blue and red lights lit up the night, and blaring sirens pierced the still air. The lights illuminated the shapes of paramedics, running back and forth with equipment.

It also lit up the face of Capulet. The older girl was pale and stricken with fear. Silent tears coursed down her cheeks, making mascara tracks down her tanned face. She stood a little ways away from a group of Juliet's friends. The cluster of girls were unusually silent, arms wrapped around each other for comfort. Some cried, some shifted their weight from one foot to the next. One girl even had her head bowed, hands clasped together in prayer.

But Paris barely noticed them. His blue eyes were fixed on Juliet's peaceful face, illuminated by the paramedic's flashlights. She was so still, so quiet. Paris swallowed hard, watching her. He would _not_ cry. He had to be strong. Juliet never liked people to cry.

Capulet had called him up, just twenty minutes ago. He was still numb from her words, sobbed at him from the other end of the phone. Now, he could only wait, with bated breath, to figure out what would happen.

"What's going on here?"

Paris turned, only vaguely surprised to see Laurie Friar come jogging out of the fog. She stopped at the corner, then gave a little cry when she saw Juliet, now lying on a stretcher. "Wh-what? I-Is that..."

As an answer, Natalie began to sob. One of her friends came forward, and gripped Laurie's shoulder. The girl's mouth moved, and Paris watched as Laurie's face began to crumple. He swallowed, his heart giving another jerk.

 _Juliet. Please, baby, be alright._


	19. Act 5, Scene 1

Romeo was very glad when Benvolio called him. Because he had been very lonely.

See, he hadn't been able to see his friends in ages. He was nowhere near his old school, and nobody had been allowed to contact him anyways. It was against the rules when somebody got expe-.

His hand stopped, inches from his phone. Benvolio was not a rule-breaker by any stretch of the imagination. Mercutio, maybe, but not Ben. So why would he be calling, when that was obviously against the rules?

His mood slightly darker then it'd been a moment ago, Romeo pressed the _accept call_ button, and held his phone to his ear. "Benvolio! Man, it's so good to hear from you! What's going on?"

"Romeo!" Benvolio's voice came through the speaker. For a moment, his voice cracked, and Romeo thought he was going to cry. Then he said, "You little _bastard!"_

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me!" Benvolio's voice was reproachful. "Why didn't you _tell_ me about you and Juliet? Honestly, man, I'm you're best friend! I'm not gonna leave you over some _girl!"_

"Uhh..." Romeo felt lost. "How do you...?"

"Please!" Benvolio scoffed. "How unperceptive do you think I am? Dude, you've been dropping clues left and right. It was only after you left that I put everything together. Also, I think Laurie knows about it. I heard her muttering about needing to contact you."

"Laurie wanted to call me?" Romeo's ears perked up, and his heart beat faster. "Why? Is it about Juliet? How is she?"

For a very long time, Benvolio didn't answer. Romeo thought he heard the emo boy muttering to himself, and he leaned forward instinctively, trying to catch the words. "Hey, Ben, what's the matter?"

Benvolio's voice exploded from the phone suddenly, a choked, half-angry sound. "Juliet, sh-she...Oh my _god,_ Romeo! Nothing like this, i-it's never...oh my _god."_

Romeo stopped breathing. His hand clenched around the phone. A thousand scenarios came at him at once, making him start to shake. "She _what,_ Ben? What are you talking about?"

Benvolio's voice was shaking, as it came though the speakers. "Sh-she's hospitalized. In a coma. N-nobody knows why."

There was a long silence. On the other end of the phone, Benvolio stared at the phone in his hands, his heart pounding. "Romeo? Romeo? Are you still there?"

Romeo barely heard him. He barely heard anything, except the words, pounding through his head: _She's hospitalized. Hospitalized. In a coma._ He wanted to put his hands over his ears, close his eyes, block it all out. It wasn't true! It wasn't!

 _Is it e'en true? Then I defy you, stars! *****_

He didn't even register clicking the _end call_ button, didn't hear Benvolio's short noise of protest. He felt his phone leave his hand, and land with a clatter on the floor. His feet moved of their own accord, his hands numbly reaching for his coat. He knew only one thing.

He had to see Juliet.

* * *

 ***From the actual play**


	20. Act 5, Scene 2 (Sort of)

**Author's Note: Hi guys! I guess I should tell you that I'm gonna start going off script now. Things are gonna get complicated, so hang on.**

* * *

Laurie lay in her dorm-room bed, staring up at the ceiling, and having an enormous fit of insomnia. Her mind kept going back to Juliet, laying motionless by the wall. The potion - and the plan - had worked.

Well, almost.

Laurie couldn't stop thinking about Romeo. She hadn't been able to contact him, and tell him about what was going on. It was silly, really, her fears. It wasn't like Romeo was going to hear about what happened, right? He was in another city, anyways, and nobody from the school was allowed to contact him. It was ridiculous to think that he'd find out!

Wasn't it?

* * *

Laurie wasn't the only one having a sleepless night. Across the campus, Paris sat on a bench in the school court-yard, staring unseeingly into the distance. Likewise, his thoughts were full of his crush, but for different reasons.

 _Oh Juliet. My beautiful Juliet. What happened?_

Obviously, Paris couldn't get to bed. How could he, when Juliet was in the hospital, for an unknown reason? Who _knew_ what had happened to her? Who knew what was happening to her _right now?_ What was she going through? Paris shifted back and forth restlessly, then abruptly stood up.

If he couldn't sleep, he was going to see Juliet.

* * *

The lights were off in Capulet's dorm, despite having been on for the last 2 hours. After hearing the news, the popular Junior's friends had shown up to comfort her. There had been many tears and many gentle words. There had also been a group prayer, because one of Capulet's friends was a devout Catholic.

But now, while every other girl lay sleeping, Capulet's green eyes were wide open.

The impromptu sleep-over had helped her immensely. She no longer felt like bursting into tears. But she still felt empty inside. There was a hole in her chest, one that just kept getting bigger the longer she lay there. Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore.

Pushing back the covers, she grabbed her coat. With her free hand, she scrawled a note on a sticky: _Gon walking. Dont worry about me. Ill be back._

Then she stepped outside, into the crisp, autum evening.

* * *

And far away, on a bus, sat a blond-haired emo, with eyes that were so _very_ far away.


	21. Act 5, Scene 3 (Part 1)

Whenever Montague had something on his mind, he went for a drive.

No, seriously. It really helped. All he had to do was get into his vintage Thunderbird, turn on some Linkin Park, and _boom._ His mind went absolutely clear. After that, it was surprisingly easy to think deep thoughts.

And this evening, he had a lot on his mind.

Like his newly-expelled kid brother for one. Montague's forehead creased, once again struck by the absolute impossibility of the situation. Romeo. His _brother._ Sure, the little twerp could be annoyingly passionate about things (mostly girls and poetry), but Montague had never thought he might get into fights. One thing, at least, that he hadn't thought he'd needed to worry about.

And it wasn't like he minded Romeo giving some snobbish Prep a good kick in the rear. The thing was, Romeo hadn't just done that. Montague had seen Tybalt's face, and he'd almost felt sorry for the kid. Almost.

Montague punched the steering wheel angrily. _Dang it, Romeo! Why the heck you'd have to do it? Just wait 'till Mom and Dad find out you've been living in my friend's brother's house!_ Their parents - out on some cruise somewhere - hadn't yet heard of the trouble their youngest son had gotten himself into. Montague doubted they'd be very happy, finding another school that met their expectations. Plus, they'd chew him out for "not keeping an eye on Romeo." Again.

Hang on. What was that?

Frowning, Montague turned down his music, and slowed the car. Somebody was walking down the sidewalk. Some girl, about his age. The emo's eyes widened, as the figure moved into the light of the street-lamp.

Slowing the Thunderbird to a crawl, he eased the car close to car. Lip curling in a smirk, he leaned out. "Hey, Capulet."

His rival raised her head. She looked exhausted, but she still managed to give him the evil eye. "Well, well, well. Look who's escaped from the freak-show."

Montague raise one pierced eye-brow. "Look who's talking. You look awful, princess."

Capulet's face flushed in the dark light. She seemed to be wearing pajama bottoms, over a pink sweatshirt. It looked oddly thrown together, a rarity for any prep, much less their ring-leader.

Capulet's eyes swept over her insulter's clothes, searching for a come-back. "Say's the guy who's wearing eye-liner. Tell me again how that's supposed to look good."

Annoyed, Montague ignored her question. "What're you doing out here, so far from you fan club?" He scanned the side-walk to make sure that his statement was correct. He hadn't seen anyone else, but you never knew with Capulet's kind. They could be hiding in the bushes, waiting to jump out, or something like that.

"My _friends_ aren't here," Capulet said, pointedly. "And no, they didn't abandon me," she added, as the Emo opened his mouth. "I just need time to myself. You know, to think."

For the first time, Montague got a really good look at her face. The prep wasn't looking at him; her eyes roamed along the grey pavement. There were worry lines along her forehead, and she wasn't wearing make-up. Well, not as much as she usually did, anyways. With a jolt, Montague remembered what the news had been at school.

Capulet's little sister, Juliet, had been found unconscious in an ally. Montague never paid attention to gossip, but you'd have to be deaf not to hear about this. Heck, the deaf probably _had_ heard about it, it was that big.

The Junior hadn't given the whole thing much thought - it wasn't _his_ problem. But seeing Capulet now, without her friends, and looking so rumpled, he was suddenly struck by the reality of the situation.

"Your sister?", he asked softly.

Startled at his tone of voice, Capulet looked up. A thousand jabs raced into her head, ways to trip up her rival. But for some reason, she couldn't get them out. Instead she swallowed, and looked down. "Yeah. Julie."

There was a silence, broken only by the sound of Montague's old car, and his strange music. Capulet scuffed her toe across the pavement, the tips of her short boots scraping against the grey surface. Finally, she said, "I never expected it, you know? I mean, she always seemed so put together. I mean, she seemed kind of depressed after what happened to Tybalt, but I-I just...never..."

"Well, uh, she might not have. I mean, somebody could have done something..." Montague trailed off, as Capulet squeezed her eyes shut. She looked suddenly like she was about to cry. _Dang it! Why'd you have to say that, idiot?_

"I just don't know!" Capulet's voice was soft, but cracked. Her face looked like it was about to break. "I don't know why anyone would want to hurt her, and I d-don't want to think sh-she...she'd want to..." She broke off, swallowing, leaving an uncomfortable gap in the conversation.

Montague sighed. Leaning over, he shoved open the door to the back seat. "Get in."

The prep looked up, startled. "Excuse me?"

Montague could already feel his face start flaming. What the heck was he _thinking?_ What would his friends say? Still, he didn't shut the door. "I said, get it. We're wasting gas."

He watched Capulet's face shift from disbelief to suspicion. Good. Now she was acting more like the Capulet he knew and hated. Watching her almost break down in front of him had unnerved him more then he cared to admit.

"Why?"

The emo turned back toward the front. "We're going to pay your sister a little visit."

Capulet's eye brows shot up. "What? Why'd you want to do _that_?"

 _Uh..._ Montague didn't really know. But he couldn't tell his rival that. "Wouldn't want you to kill your nice boots, walking all that way."

Her expression hardened, and her sadness receded deeper inside her. They stood for a long moment, two bitter enemies, staring each other down. Just as it had always been. Only this time, the conflict was something deeper then different interests.

Then, quite suddenly, Capulet swung herself through the car door, and arranged herself elegantly on the faded back-seat. "Nobody must know about this, understood?"

Montague gave her a look in the review mirror. "Honestly, Princess, what makes you think I'd _want_ people to know?" He spun the steering wheel, and the Thunderbird pulled away from the curb. "How do you feel about Linkin Park?"

"Never heard them. Why?"

The emo didn't answer, just turned up the music. The song _Breaking the Habit_ spun though the air behind them.

* * *

 _I don't know what's worth fighting for  
_ _or why I have to scream._

 _I don't know why I instigate,  
_ _and say what I don't mean._

 _I don't know how I got this way,  
_ _I'll never be alright._

 _So I'm breaking the habit, breaking the habit,_

 _Tonight._


	22. Act 5, Scene 3 (Part 2)

Laurie couldn't stand it anymore. She just couldn't lie in bed a second more, not when her mind was alight with nervousness.

Quietly, so as not to wake her roommate, she slid out of bed, and dressed quickly. She knew there was only one way to settle her thoughts. She had to check to make sure her plan was really coming together as it should.

She had to go visit Juliet.

* * *

The hospital was surprisingly quiet this evening.

That was the first thing that popped into Romeo's head, when he stepped through the sliding glass-doors and into the lobby. There were a few people sitting in chairs, reading magazines or watching the news. Soft orchestra music played through speakers, while hospital staff talked on the phone, or typed on computers. Obviously, nothing very interesting was happening. No critical-condition patients or hysterical visitors tonight.

Well, none that they knew of, anyways.

The woman at the receptionist desk looked up, as Romeo approached. Her eyes narrowed, as all adult's eyes do when teenage boys approach without supervision. This one looked particularly troublesome. Maybe it was the blond hair, dyed black at the tips, or the ripped clothing. Maybe it was the way he walked, or the darkness in his eyes. Whatever the reason, the receptionist stood a little straighter.

Romeo saw this all happen, but he didn't care. He walked right up to the desk, and looked the woman right in the eye. "Good evening, ma'am."

"Good evening," said the woman, a bit stiffly. "May I help you?"

"Yes, please." Romeo shot a glance around the room. "I'd like to see one of your patients."

"I'm sorry, sir, but no visitors under the age of 18 are allowed to see patients without supervision."

"Right." Romeo cursed himself for not having thought of this. He turned away from the desk, and walked to sit in a chair, close to the door that led to the rest of the hospital. He appeared relaxed enough, but his whole body was tense. He watched the receptionist carefully, waiting until she turned away.

Which was why he didn't notice the front door open, and somebody enter.

 _There!_ Romeo stood, as the woman at the desk turned to help someone else. Quickly, he edged around the chair he'd been sitting in, and pushed though the door that led out of the room. Nobody was going to stop him from seeing his love.

He was quick, but not quick enough. Far away, at the other end of the room, one person's eyes caught onto him, their hands tightening on the arms of their chair.

One person stood up to follow.

* * *

Romeo hurried though the hospital hall-ways, keeping a look out for things that could stop him. Whenever he heard footsteps or voices, he dodged away out of sight. He didn't really know where he was going, but he had a clue.

Juliet was in a coma. Comatose people were kept on the third floor, in the second wing. It took a while to get there, because Romeo couldn't take the elevator, (too many people). By the time he reached the right level, he was out of breath, and beginning to regret doing this.

But all doubts left his mind when he saw the door. In bold, black letters, it read **Room C5.**

And below that: **Juliet C.**

Romeo's heart beat faster as he pushed open the doors. Too late, he realized that there could be other people there. But Fate must have been on his side, in that matter at least. He was alone in the cool, small room, with only the humming of medical equipment.

Well, not completely alone. There was, of course, the room's occupant.

She lay in the bed, her black hair strewn across her pillows. Her eyes were closed, her eye-lashes dusting the smooth tan skin under her eyes. Her chest rose and fell, calm and relaxed. There was a little smile tugging at her lips, as if she were about to laugh. She did not move.

Even now, so far away from here, she was breath-taking.

A lump rose in Romeo's throat, as he approached the bedside. This was all his fault. If he hadn't struck out at Tybalt, hadn't let his anger control him, she wouldn't be here. _Where are you, Tybalt? Lying here too, another soul broken, because of my actions? Sleep in peace, my friend. I too, have been torn apart._

Romeo squeezed his eyes shut. It wasn't fair! One of his hands rose, and brushed back a strand of Juliet's long black hair. Why was she still so beautiful, even while she lay in this ugly place? He couldn't leave her here, to face her fate alone. He didn't care what would happen when people came in, what they would think. He would stay with his beloved forever, it that's what it took.

He could feel the tears pricking at the edges of his eyes, but he did not brush them away. Carefully, he leaned over, his fingers lightly caressing Juliet's face. His bright blue eyes slide shut, as his lips parted, brushing against his beloved's.

So he never noticed the fist, until it slammed into the side of his head.


	23. Act 5, Scene 3 (Part 3)

The hospital receptionist had pretty much given up the notion that this was an ordinary evening.

It had started off alright. Nothing much had happened that day, and that pattern had seemed to be repeating itself. The receptionist had settled back, preparing herself to wait out another boring shift.

But then people had started coming.

First that emo teenager, who had given her the creeps. She'd hoped that he'd understood that he wasn't allowed to see patients. But no, as soon as she'd turned her back, he had vanished. Probably he was running around in the building somewhere, doing who- _knows_ -what.

Then that other boy had disappeared too, though the receptionist wasn't as worried about him. He'd seem less troublesome, dressed in trendy clothes and very polite. Still, no people under 18 were allowed in the hospital unattended. Oh, she was in _so_ much trouble!

She was just debating whether or not to call her superiors, when the door swung open yet again. With a inward groan, the receptionist raised her head. Yup. _More_ teens.

These ones looked older. There were two of them, a boy and a girl, both about Junior age. The girl, a slim, mocha-skinned beauty queen, marched right up to the desk. The receptionist raised her eye-brows. The girl looked familiar, although she didn't know why.

"Hi." The girl wasted no time on formalities. "I'd like to see my sister, please. Juliet."

 _Ah!_ No wonder the girl looked so familiar. She was the Juliet girl's older sister. She seemed different, somehow, when she wasn't surrounded by her friends and family. What was her name? It was something unusual...

Rules were rules, though, and the receptionist was in no mood to bend them anymore. "I'm sorry," she said, doing her best to seem kind but firm. "No people under 18 are allowed to see patients without an adult."

The boy came up to the desk too. The receptionist's eyes narrowed. He was from the same mold as the other boy - an emo. They even looked similar; both had blue eyes and blond hair. The shape of their face was similar too, though this boy seemed less disturbing then the other one. He smiled at the receptionist. "Come on ma'am. Just a little visit."

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "No underage visitors are allowed in unattended." She noted the friction between the sister and the emo, the way they stood close but not that close. They seemed an odd pair to come here. Then again, there were a lot of odd visitors tonight.

"You know, a lot of people have been wanting to visit Juliet tonight." The words slipped out before the receptionist could bite them back. She watched the two teens exchange glances, and wished she could erase what she'd said. Now there'd be questions.

Sure enough, the sister leaned forward, and read the receptionist's name-tag. "Other people? What kind of other people, Ms...Jay?"

Ms. Jay met the other girl's gaze. "Just other teens. They didn't give their names." Then, before she could stop: "One of them looked like you, sir."

This surprised the boy. "Looked like me?" The confused expression was replaced by one of concentration, then one of growing disbelief. "Uh, how much like me?"

Ms. Jay was beginning to regret her words. "Just... like you. He's gone now." She turned away, trying to indicate that his conversation was over. What was wrong with her tonight? She couldn't keep her mouth shut, couldn't keep her eyes on-.

Oh no.

She whirled around again. The boy and the girl were nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Romeo staggered backward, his vision blurring. He felt his hip bump into something, and he almost fell. His ears rang. Vaguely, he was aware of his attacker coming close again. Spinning around, he caught the person's fist, twisting it around him. The person stumbled, and wrenched away, turning.

It was Paris.

Romeo blinked, surprised. He'd seen Paris around the campus before, but hadn't given him much thought. Just another prep to avoid and laugh at. Why would he be here?

"Filthy little emo _freak!_ " Paris was practically spitting fire. Romeo had never seem him this angry. He'd never seen _any_ prepthis angry, not even Tybalt. But Paris was glaring at him with fire in his eyes, his red hair ruffled.

"What do you mean?", Romeo asked. It was a ridiculous question - he knew what Paris meant - but he wasn't exactly sure how to respond.

Instead of answering, Paris swung his fist again. Romeo dodged to the side, trying not to knock over anything important. Paris started toward him, words building on his lips. "Get _away_ from-!"

Romeo cut him off. "What are you doing here?" Then, the more pressing question, "Why the heck are you attacking me?"

Paris glared into his face, lips twisted in a snarl. "Trying to protect my girlfriend, of course. And you?"

Romeo blinked."Your _what?"_

For the first time, Paris looked a bit bashful. "Well she's not my girlfriend yet." Then his eyes narrowed, and his face became angry again. "But she will be, and I intend to stop creeps like you from hurting her!"

"What do you mea-?" Romeo stopped. Then blushed. "Oh! _No!_ I'm not going to do anything her! What do you take me for?"

"An _emo."_ Coming from Paris, the word sounded like a curse. "What else am I supposed to think, _Romeo?_ I saw what you did to Tybalt! Why else would you be here?"

Romeo started to answer, then stopped. What was he supposed to tell this kid? _I'm here because my secret girlfriend is hurt, and I wanted to comfort her._ It may have been the truth, but it certantly wasn't going to help here. If Paris even believed him.

So he took the other way out.

Moving suddenly, Romeo launched himself forward, shoving past Paris. He made a grab for the door-handle, but missed. As he lunged again, he was brought up short. Turning, he found Paris gripping his elbow.

"Oh no," the prep growled. "You're not going anywhere."

First, Romeo was standing with both feet on the ground. Then, he wasn't. In fact, he found himself half-leaning on a tray of toppled medical equipment, sliding down toward the floor. Then Paris was there, his face contorted with fury and adrenaline, slamming his fist down, over and over again.

Romeo tried to raise his arms, to defend himself, but he only lost his balance. He fell toward the ground, curling his body inward, trying to protect his face. But Paris was merciless, hitting and kicking, until Romeo found himself slipping away.

Very far away...

Paris watched as the emo's body relaxed. Obviously, he was out. Paris gave him one last kick for good measure. Filthy freak deserved it, breaking in here. No matter what Romeo said, he knew that the other boy had meant no good things. He was dangerous, that was for sure, and Paris wouldn't let him get anywhere near his beloved.

He turned to go. And found himself staring into the wide eyes of Juliet.


	24. Act 5, Scene 3 (Part 4)

Paris stared at the wild eyed girl sitting upright on the bed. Juliet's hair was messed up. Her hands were clenched, and it was clear she had only just woken up. Her eyes were wide, and she gaped at Paris. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out.

"Juliet!" Paris started toward her. "You're alright! What the heck happ-"

"You!" Juliet's horse, terrified voice cut right through his words. "W-what did you do?"

Paris stopped, still shocked by her sudden return to the land of the living. "To Romeo? He snuck in here. I don't know what he was planning to do. That's _Romeo_ , you know. The one that beat up-"

"I _know_ who he is!", Juliet said shrilly. She looked very pale. "I _know_ who he is." When Paris walked forward, she shrank away. "D-don't touch me!"

Paris stopped again, hurt. _She just came out of a coma,_ he reminded himself. _She's bound to be a little disoriented._ Out loud, he said, "It's alright. I'm not going to hurt _you_. I'd never do that."

Juliet's eyes were still wide. "W-why did you do that? H-he wasn't attacking you...was he?" The last part came out as a squeak.

"No, he didn't attack me," Paris admitted. He might as well be truthful. "I was afraid he was going to attack _you_. Look, Julie, you've just been through an ordeal. Just calm down, and I'll call the-."

That was as far as he got, before Juliet moved. Kicking aside the covers, she brushed past him, and knelt beside the fallen emo. As Paris watched, confused, she ran her fingers lightly over Romeo's bruised face, murmuring things he couldn't catch.

He moved forward. "Hey, Juliet, are you okay?"

She looked up at him, and fixed him with a withering look. "Am _I_ okay? I've been _asleep,_ for crying out loud! What could _happen_ to me?" Then, as Paris stood there, she turned back to Romeo, her voice taking on a note of desperation. "Oh, Romeo, what are you _doing_ here? I thought Laurie, she...oh Romeo! Paris, what the heck did you _do_ to him?"

Paris was only just finding his voice, when footsteps pounded along the hall. He turned, excuses for being here already rising on his lips.

But the people that came through the door weren't nurses or doctors. Instead, to his utter surprise, Capulet herself strode in. She froze, and her eyes widened, as she took in the situation. Finally, she said, sounding stunned "What the hell is-."

And then she saw Juliet, and her face melted in shock and relief.

Another person pushed through the door. Paris had thought that nothing more could surprise him, but his mouth dropped open at the sight of Montague, Romeo's older brother. The emo's face went pale when he saw his brother, and he walked straight toward him, taking no notice of Paris at all.

He knelt over Romeo, just as Capulet finally found her voice. "Julie!", she cried, her words full of more emotion then Paris had ever heard from her. "Juliet! Y-you're awake!" She moved toward her sister, but found her way blocked by all the other people in that corner of the room. Utterly wrong-footed, she turned to Paris. "You. What are you doing here?"

As Paris stared at her, unable to think of even that, Montague stared at Romeo's broken face. Then he rounded on Juliet, his own face furious. "What the hell happened to him?" Not waiting for an answer, he pulled at his brother's body. "Let go."

Juliet glared at him, her face fierce, despite the tears collecting in her eyes. She tightened her grip around Romeo. "Dream on, idiot."

Montague looked ready to hit something. "Let go right now, or I swear, I'll-" He broke off, stealing a glance at Capulet's suddenly defensive pose, and took a deep breath. "Look," he said, a bit quieter. "My brother's hurt, and I need to see him. Why does he matter to you, anyway? You're a prep, for, the love of-"

"Matter!?", Juliet's voice rose at least three octaves. " _Matter?!_ Of course he matters! I _love_ him!"

The long silence that followed was broken only by the creak of the door, as it was opened once again. Capulet, Paris, and Montague all turned their heads simultaneously - Juliet was still looking down at Romeo. Paris stared numbly at the person that had just entered the room, no longer surprised by anything the word was going to throw at him. Even this.

"Oh," said Laurie Friar. "Is this, uh, a bad time?"


	25. Act 5, Scene 3 (Part 5)

It was 11:37 at night. In the ever-busy hospital, three teens and one tween sat in a private meeting room. Well, and one adult.

Principle Esculus paced back and forth, staring out the window. His breath fogged on the window, and he absently wondered why the hospital staff didn't turn on the heater. He pulled his coat around himself, then turned back to the guilty students.

"Well," he said. "Well."

Capulet looked sheepishly up at him. She clutched the mug of hot chocolate that the doctors had given her, but didn't drink it. Beside her, Montague stared out the window, purposely not making eye contact with any of them. Laurie sat a few feet away, unusually quiet. She and Paris huddled under a blanket, shivering in the cold evening air. Romeo and Juliet weren't with them - Juliet was being attended to by her doctors and Romeo was in intensive care.

The principle sighed. "Well," he said again. "Would anyone like to tell me why on Earth I was called up, in the middle of the night, and told that several of my students had just broken into a hospital?"

"We didn't break in!", Montague said, indigently, then shrank back at his superior's glare.

"Mr. Montague, I'd suggest that you not be smart with me," Esculas warned. "This whole fiasco is a first for me." He swept his gaze over all the kids. "Now, I've heard from the harried receptionist downstairs that all of you wanted to see Juliet. Is this correct?" When there was no reply, he addressed Paris. "Paris! Is that true?"

Paris stared, then glanced upward, his face coloring. "Yes sir," he said sheepishly.

"Right." Principle Esculus turned back toward the windows. "Now. I'm sure that all of you find that your particular reason for being here is perfectly reasonable. However, I'm quite sure you did not think about how others might take this. Specifically, how _I_ would take this. As you should know, Miss Capulet, I've had enough on my plate with your comatose sister. I do not need break-ins on my hands."

And here, he turned to Laurie. "And I'm told," he said icily, "that there is more then meets the eye here. Care to tell me what that is?"

Laurie squirmed in her seat. "It's not that important," she muttered. "You wouldn't find it interesting."

"I'm sure I would," Principle Esculus replied. "Come on. I've got all night, or what's left of it anyways."

And so, Laurie did. Carefully, so she wouldn't miss anything, she recounted the whole tale, from the party to the fight. When she told about Juliet's desperate decision, Capulet's face went white. She swore softly, and sunk back into her chair. It took a moment to everyone to realize that she was crying.

"Hey." Montague turned in his seat, and touched her shoulder. "Hey, Princess. What's up?"

"Sh-she did it because of me!" Capulet's voice came out as a sob. "I c-can't believe...I didn't mean to...My Julie..."

And then she turned, and buried her face in Montague's shoulder. The emo froze, his eyes going wide. Slowly, he raised his hand, and awkwardly patted his enemy on the back. "Hey, whoa. It's, uh, not your fault."

He looked helplessly up at the others. Laurie's lips twitched in a humourless smile - she didn't much feel like laughing.

She went on with her story, omitting her reason for going along with the plan. Some things were just better left secret. For now, anyways. She spoke until her story ran out, which was the part where she decided to go see Juliet. Just like everyone else had, apparently. Then she broke off, and waited while everyone else told their side.

For a long time, the principle said nothing. He merely stared out the window, a thoughtful look on his face. Behind him, two preps, one Emo, and one genius sat, mulling over the tale they'd just heard. Capulet blinked the tears away, and abruptly shoved Montague away, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

"Alright," Esculus said, finally. "There are a lot of things I think I need to do. I might even do some of them. But first: Capulet, Monatgue? You two need to make peace."

There was an instant uproar, as both Juniors sprung into complaints. The principle held up his hands. "Enough! I understand you don't want to. No, actually, I don't understand. Why don't you like each other anyways?"

There was a pause.

Then Montague said, a bit defensively. "She's such a brat, walking around like she owns the place."

Principle Esculus raised an eye-brow. "Oh really? What gave you that idea?"

Montague squirmed. "Well, uh, she's always _up to date._ She likes the stupidest things. You know, like fashion and who's dating who, and useless junk like that."

Capulet looked outraged, but Esculus looked amused. "So you think she's a brat, just because of what she likes? Her style of clothes?" When Montague didn't say anything, the principle went on. "Has she ever acted like a brat? Ever looked down on people, acted like she was better. No, don't nod. Think. Give me an example."

Montague was silent.

Capulet shifted uncomfortably; she knew what was coming. But she spoke anyways, determined to prove herself right. "He's weird," she said, before Esculus could open his mouth. "And messed up. And creepy."

" _Creepy?"_ Montague whirled around. "How am I creepy?"

"Yes," Principle Esculus echoed. "Exactly how is Mr. Montague _creepy?_ Or messed up? Or weird?"

Capulet opened her mouth. Then she closed it. Then she opened it again, and said, in a smaller voice, "His clothes I guess. And his, uh, his way of... _existing,_ I guess. Like the way he talks, or moves, or whatever. Like he's some kind of bad-boy, or something.

Her principle smiled slightly. "So you don't like him because of his fashion sense? Because his lifestyle is different then yours? Has he ever done creepy things? Has he ever started fights, or hurt people? No?" He turned his gaze to Montague, who was silently mouthing the words, _way of existing._ "Does he really seem _creepy?"_

Capulet was silent.

Esculus' gaze darkened, as he went on. "And anyways, this little game had gone on long enough. There's no point in continuing something dangerous, and it's dangerous now. It's all fun and games, until someone gets hurt. You know that."

For a moment, neither Junior did anything. Then Capulet touched Montague's shoulder. When he turned, she smirked at him. "Well, Sunshine? Ready to call it quits?"

Montague grinned right back. "Whatever you say, diva."

They solemly shook hands. Montague then offered his hand to Paris, his eyes glittering mischievously. "You too, pretty boy. Everybody's gotta love each other now."

Paris' eyes flamed, but he shook hands anyways. Under his breath, he muttered, "Retard."

"Alright!" the principle called, before Montague could respond. "That's enough peace-making! You are all dismissed. I will speak with you more in the morning." He fixed them all with a hard stare. "And if I ever hear of this kind of thing happening again, you are all expelled. You hear me?" When everyone nodded, he smiled. "Good. Now leave."

And they did, shuffling out the door, one by one. Esculus did not watch them go; he stared out the window. His mood darkened, as he remembered he had more students to attend to. He took a deep breath, and almost laughed. In all his years as a principle, he'd never seen anything as complicated as this.

Poor children. Esculus turned from the window, ready to leave. No matter what the reason, this would hurt them. Bad.

* * *

 _A glooming peace this morning with it brings._

 _The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head._

 _Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things.  
_

 _Some shall be pardoned, and some punishèd._

 _For never was a story of more woe  
_

 _Than this of Juliet and her Romeo._


	26. Epiloge

"For the last time, Ben! Tell me where we're going!"

Benvolio glanced behind him, a big smile on his face. Joy thrilled through him at the sight of Mercutio's semi-annoyed face, a few feet away. He was back! His friend was okay! Benvolio turned around again, and continued dragging Mercutio across the black-top. "Pipe down. I told you, I'll tell you when we get there."

He could already see the people massing around. Some looked up as he and Mercutio approached. Some waved, while others grinned. Two girls started snickering to each other, anticipating what was going to happen. Benvolio dragged his friend toward the middle of the crowd, suddenly nervous. This could be terrible.

Then again, it could be awesome.

He had almost made it to the center, when Mercutio decided he'd had enough. Ripping his arm out of his friend's grasp, he tried to back up. But Benvolio, not to be deterred, gripped his shoulder, shoving him forward. Mercutio threw up his hands in exasperation. "Dude! I just got out of the hospital. For the love of Mike, be more ge-"

Then he stuttered to a halt.

Because the crowd had just parted, shoving another boy into the center. A boy with black hair, cut in the trending fashion - messy and wind-blown in a supposedly-cute fashion. A boy with neatly-pressed jeans and a red sweat-shirt. A boy whose own eyes widened at the sight of the person across from him.

In other words, Tybalt.

When Tybalt saw Mercutio, he tried to push back through the crowd again. But the wall of people behind him pushed him right back. Mercutio, for his part, let loose a stream of cuss words under his breath. "Tell me you're kidding, Benvolio", he muttered. "Tell me you're kidding."

Benvolio shook his head, nerves crawling up his throat. "Sorry, but no. You know the drill. Everybody's friends now. _Everybody._ "

"Yeah, but come _on."_ Mercutio gestured forcefully at the prep, who looked just as uncomfortable. "Remember the _last_ time we talked? Look where _that_ ended up! Both of us in the hospital! This is ridiculous, Ben, I just don't-"

"I didn't mean to."

Both Mercutio and Benvolio glanced up in surprise. Tybalt was staring at his shoes, looking uncomfortable. "I didn't mean to," he repeated. "I just, uh, I don't know. I got, uh, carried away." He waved one of his hands in a vague gesture. "I didn't think it would...didn't see the..."

The crowd was very still. Mercutio glanced at Benvolio, who made the _go-on_ gesture. Mercutio sighed. Then, he shook his black hair out of his eyes, and started forward. Tybalt looked up as he approached, his eyes narrowing. Mercutio stopped, a few feet away from the person he'd been taunting, just two weeks earlier.

Then he took a deep breath. A small smirk touched his lips, as he held out his hand. His eye-brows raised, a dare inside of a question. _Well? Will you?_

Tybalt straightened up, and faced the emo. His eyes lit up a bit, their old, rebellious flame coming back. They stood there, the two of them, perfectly silent. The crowd was silent too, tense. Waiting.

Then, Tybalt gripped Mercutio's hand in his, and shook it firmly.

The crowd erupted into cheers. Everywhere, people turned excitedly to their friends, talking about what they'd just witnessed. Emos and Emos, preps and preps, and normal people. But, if you looked hard enough, you would see something you couldn't have seen for a while.

Emos and preps talking with each other. Laughing with each other. Giving each other fist-bumps, and high-fives. Or, at the very least, walking by without throwing insults or dirty looks.

As Benvolio watched it, he felt a pang in his chest. He wished Romeo could have been there to see it. Romeo, yeah, and Juliet too. Benvolio didn't know his friend's secret crush that well, but he figured she was a nice girl.

Unfortunately, neither Sophomore could be there. Romeo was still expelled, of course. Doubly so, since he'd broken into a hospital. And Juliet was also expelled, because of what she'd done. She hadn't seemed to upset about it, though After all, she and Romeo were starting in a new school together, a place with no prejudices. Benvolio figured they'd be happy. And anyways, he still had Romeo's number. A silly thing like expulsion wasn't going to get in the way of a friendship.

Capulet and Montague weren't there either. They'd both been suspended for three days, because of the whole hospital thing. And Laurie had also been expelled. She was going to a public school, a little ways from here. Principle Esculus had told her she was lucky. She could have gone to jail for mixing up that drug for Juliet. But Laurie was still staying in the school dorms, so she was still around. Somewhere.

As Benvolio let those thoughts swirl around in his head, he didn't notice Mercutio and Tybalt. The two boys had not moved from their position, even as people celebrated around them. Now, Tybalt stepped forward, and leaned forward so his lips almost brushed Mercutio's earing. Quietly, so only the emo could here, he whispered, "Freak."

Mercutio turned his head toward him, a smile sliding across his face. "Come on, Pretty Boy," he whispered. "What makes you think I'd want to be anything else?"

Tybalt was silent. Then he smirked, and walked away. As he passed Mercutio, he clapped him on the shoulder, just for an instant. Then, he was gone.

Mercutio stood there for a moment, considering. Then, he skipped forward, snuck up behind Benvolio, and put his hands over his friend's eyes. Benvolio yelped, and twisted around, almost crashing into a group of people. They scattered in alarm and annoyance. They were, Mercutio realized, a crazy mix of preps and Emo. And while some did avoid each other, others grouped together, talking. Probably complaining about clumsy Benvolio. It wasn't perfect.

But it was a start.


End file.
